It's not really about the cat

My big black cat, Jasper, got out yesterday. That wouldn't be a big deal except all three of my cats are indoor cats, and I hate to play favorites, but he really is. He's the one who sleeps all cuddled up next to me, closer even since Mike died. Sometimes in the middle of the night, he just starts purring for no reason. It's a lovely and very comforting sound.

We found out this week we needed a new bathroom sink, which gave us the perfect excuse to replace the cheap, crumbling cabinet that was there.

So we got the new cabinet and while it was being brought in, Jasper snuck out. I didn't notice he was gone until late in the evening because I was laying a new tile floor in the bathroom to go with the new cabinet.

I searched for about a half hour, walking all through the yard, looking under the cars, under the deck, all up and down the street and it suddenly occurred to me I might not find him, and I started crying. Not one of those little sniffly weepy cries, but all out crying. I couldn't stop; I couldn't even catch my breath.

Rob grabbed a flashlight and went out looking while I walked around the house crying harder than I can ever remember crying before. I've never experienced anything like it.

I haven't cried a lot since Mike died; I've busied myself with Life o' Mike and the rallies and the advocacy. It keeps the pain at bay because I know I might be able to prevent this happening to someone else. I'm really not a crier, anyway.

But last night I just couldn't face losing my little comforter. I took my flashlight out and started looking again, still ctying. Finally, I heard a timid little cry. He had been out there for hours with no opposable thumb to open a door with.

He was very sorry for scaring me, although I think he'd like to try getting out again to go after chippies and birdies.

When things finally settled down, Rob suggested this hadn't really been all about the cat. We just passed the six-month anniversary of Mike's death.

He's so perceptive.

We're coming up on the Asheville rally on the 19th. Just a week away. Hoping for 300 or so people,. Hey, Obama got 28,000.

Then Mike's and my birthday is on Nov. 3. I just don't know how I'm going to get through that day. Several of my friends have offered tohelp me through the evening with dinner at MeLa and then a beer over at the Biergrrden. When I get home, I plan to go outside and sing Happy birthday to ME to the stars. We used to call each other in the morning on our birthday and sing that as loudly as we could and argue about whose birthday it was. Now that it's mine alone I don't really want it anymore.