Part One– Two weeks ago, i was intentionally vague about (two) something(s) that happened. Even after the signs, mediums, dreams, and especially the eight witnessed hummingbird incidents; science and logic still creep in doubt. For me, the last two Fridays were so mind-boggling and personal that I’ve been hesitant to share, needing to reality test and unboggle. But there’s inexplicable, and then there’s fucking unbelievable.
Our tiniest, cutest kitty, Nosy, …was Phyllis’ favorite. The other two, the bully and the recluse, are neither lovable nor livable. But, every morning, little Nosy would jump on the bed, stand not aside, but on sleeping Phyllis, and awaken mybeauty. Phyl always called her “my precious girl”. I could crab or snap at the other two, or any of the other six cats we had, with impunity. But, if I even looked at Nosy in anger, Phyl would cuddle Nosy, say “Don’t listen to your bad daddy”, and not talk to me for hours. If you know her, you know I’m not kidding.
Since Phyllis, Nosy does not come near me. But I could see Nosy was listless. Her nose was warm. For two or three days, she was hiding under the bed, not moving, eating, drinking, pooping. I took her to the vet. After blood tests, the vet said her blood sugar was four times normal, she had a urinary infection, and they had to send for cultures to know more. The only way she would live, is to take care of everything right away and give her insulin shots twice a day for the rest of her life. It’s usually out of the question for me to ever even catch her, so giving her shots twice a day was hardly possible. Without that, they said there wasn’t much I could do. She might last a week. The staff suggested I could take her home, but not to keep her in distress more than a few days, and bring her back when I felt it was time.
Yes, I hate those damn cats; neverending time and effort. But they’ve been here for 19 years, sleep on our bed, are my only company, and, above all, being nuts, I feel what Phyllis feels and talk to her all day. Can’t do this without her.
At home, I just totally lost it. I thought I didn’t care, but I did. I told Nosy, her mommy will be so happy to see her. Then I yelled at God. More like screaming, cussing, and namecalling. I’d only lost it like that twice before, ever, both times those weeks; once when Phyllis suffered an unreal indignity and once, unbearable distress. Every single damn night I ask for only one thing; to see Phyllis again. So my ravings were that I’m fed up and want proof that I’ll see Phyl.
And then, the two somethings happened. I swear I’m not exaggerating a word.