A little less soul

My house has a little less soul tonight. I have tearfully passed my kitties on to their new home. The guilt will pass but I still have a bazillion memories to keep them with me. It sure is quiet around here tonight.

Of course, I have to start with Atticus. What a journey he's had in 13 years! He's been with me since Spring 1998 after I basically took him from my Grandpa's house. My grandparents were aging and did not need the cat named Pretty Face bestowed upon them by my well meaning aunt. I don't even know how old he was but he was grown and from the Springfield Missouri shelter. I still have his original tag and collar. From the beginning, he was my shadow. When I brought him back to TN with me, I was in student housing at TN Tech so no animals of any kind but we were about to graduate in a few months; all we had to do was keep him out of the window. I remember the rumors of people hiding their pet cats and occasionally spotted a silhouette in a window.

Then came the divorce. We graduated collage and rode to Illinois for a few months while my EX started grad school. Then we packed up again for Nashville. I love the memory of he and I riding in this clapped out U Haul with my measly belongings. I had a carrier but I let him out; he rode on top of the carrier looking down into passing cars. The faces of the other drivers was funny! Most were shocked and had a good laugh. I did too. We made it to Nashville, found a place to live and he settled into the basement apartment window. I'm sure to him it was just another window but it was he and I all the way. We were young and resilient. I called him " the only man for me" since human men were eluding me.

If Atticus were a human I always pictured him as a Tibetan monk with major attachment issues. What an oxymoron. He has a gentle soul. Is it weird to say that your cat is more spiritually complete than you are? He accepts dogs, other cats that hate him, kittens, people of every kind and welcomes them into his life. You cannot make him bite or scratch and to my embarrassment I've tried. All I got was a look of "why are you doing this?". Nothing like being humbled and shamed by your cat. When you are sick or pregnant, he recognizes that he can do nothing more than just be with you. And so he sits by you just in case rubbing his back will somehow make you feel better.

NIcknames were plenty. Atti, Atti-man, Catticus, Atticus McFatticus, son of a bitch, or other colorful expletives when one is awoken numerous times at 2:30am and a cat is irrationally persistent. While I do have all these wonderful things to say about him, it has been, at times, a tumultuous relationship. His persistence is legendary, needs are limitless and he will not be ignored. For any reason. He would rather trip you and brave your angry torrents then have an empty food bowl. Negative attention is some attention. He is chatty. Meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow until you think you just might have to put him outside even without his front claws. He gets what he needs and that's where our relationship goes toxic. I made the monster and now can't handle it.

I have yet to mention Gladys. She is a cat. A cat's cat. And I love her just the same. Gary picked her out of a litter when she was 3 weeks old and brought her home when she was ready to help Atticus with some of his attachment problems. He let that kitten, tiny as she was, catch his tail, wrestle with his back legs, ambush him, it was hilarious to watch! She is our beauty and she is stupid. Dingy, not really stupid. My favorite nickname for her is Ding Dong. But her needs have limits and when she's done she jumps back up to her throne and naps casually. Her journey is small; she was with us for 7 years and never been out of the house except to go to the vet. I like her. But it didn't help Atticus.

Gladys has left her impression in our furniture. She was the scaredy cat that scratched gouges into my formal dining room table top and mahogany end tables when she got the rips at night - you know, the time of night that cats start tearing around the house with that crazy look in their eye for no apparent reason. Since I am an inherent animal lover she got to live but, wow, I was pissed at the time. She hates plastic grocery bags, paper, yelling and now Hank. He's never touched her and I've seen her leap in the air like a deer to pass him in a door way!

These little creatures are like the wallpaper of my heart. I loved them when they were first picked out and for years after that but time and life have changed the love to a faded, brittle version. Ugly. It's not fair to all parties especially the cats. I held out all this time for a home that can give Atticus what he needs. I love him enough to want him to get what his soul desperately requires.

Having Hank tipped the scales for me as I can only be needed by so much at one time. I cannot be 100% needed by more than one being at a time so the kid wins over a needy cat. Also, this is where i have to get selfish and claim my autonomy. Right now I don't feel very good about that autonomy but it is a good decision in the long run. I feel terrible actually.