The Nicked Heart -by Jane Everham
I was visiting over the fence with my neighbor as he walked his dog, Nora, and I walked my cat, Blue. Per usual I got the animals pronouns mixed because I tend to think of cats as female and dogs as male. A silly habit made sillier by the fact that in my long life I’ve have loved many cats – Mumpsy(F), Jeremy(M)), Jemima(F), Lucy(F), Diamond Jack(M), Ransom(M), Carefree(M), China Rose(F), Blizzard(M), Sastrugi(F), Jaxon(M), Seeker(F), Princess(F), Flynn(M), and now Blue(M) - at least half being male. Only three dogs in my entire life and two were male and one female.
All the above cats are now ancestors except Blue. The demises were varied – illness, cars, coyotes. Each cat nestled into a part of my heart, and when they died so too did little piece of my heart. I know people who apologize for grieving the loss of a pet, who feel embarrassed that with all the “real losses” in life it does not seem right to mourn a pet. Those of us who know shake our heads dumbfounded.
Blue personifies the bonds I have had with all my cats so via Blue here is what my cat-life looks like:
Blue is a Snowshoe Siamese, a very princely cat. He came to me initially as a foster cat but ended up being mine forever. When he arrived at my home at age five, he was not thrilled with the shake-up in his life. He disappeared the very first day, and after searching high and low I finally gave up looking for him, figuring he would show himself eventually. When I went to my closet to dress for bed, suddenly my clothes “hissed” at me! Separating my trousers hanging on the rod, I found Blue. He hissed some more and tried to take a swipe at me. This was his pattern for the next two weeks.
Flash forward one year later, and Blue has become my best friend, or I should say I am his best friend. He comes running when he hears the garage door announcing my return. Throughout the day he wants pets, and often he settles on my lap blocking the book I am reading and purrs off to sleep.
He yowls for me to go to bed at night and is grumpy when I do not obey and he must go to bed alone. When I finally crawl into bed he insists on curling up on my chest for a nap until our combined body heat sends him to his side of the bed.
In the early morning, he waits till I start moving and my breathing changes and then claws at the covers asking to crawl in. A purring, snuggling alarm clock is a wonderful thing to wake up to.
After this snuggle, the excitement begins. When I start for the bedroom door, he bolts into the hall and pauses briefly at the top of the stairs to make sure I am really coming before flying down the stairs to land feverishly at the back door. I harness his impatient, yowling body, snap on the leash, open the sliding glass door and out he flies. He is free to wander, dragging his leash, as long as he doesn’t approach the fence and try to flee. He sniffs everything, nibbles on grass, and dashes unsuccessfully after birds, squirrels, and rabbits. Half an hour later I ask if he is ready for breakfast, and he flies up the stairs trailing his leash into the house and our day proceeds.
With the demise of each of those cats listed before Blue, I experienced a nick here and a nick there. I am imagining my heart looks a bit like a pineapple – love nicks galore. It is a wonder my well-nicked heart continues to beat so stalwartly. Convention says that a broken heart has more room, and my heart, cracked-full of memories, is living proof. Pets both fill and break our hearts, and I cannot imagine life without them. Can you?
Jane worked for 34 years in the public schools in Cheyenne, Wyoming and Fort Collins. After retirement in 2011, she has spent her time volunteering with the Larimer League of Women Voters, Foothills Unitarian Church, and progressive politics. She loves to have lunch with friends, reads voraciously, and travels.
