I'm in Shawano. Having a blast. Was at a bar all yesterday, and had not a single beer. Apparently, drinking 3 beers and a flute of wine (like I did on Saturday night) really does me in nowadays. How incredibly embarassing. Was too hungover for more drinking yesterday. Instead, I watched as Todd (Lisa's beau - I call him that because I know it'd make her gag. And we all know how I feel about gagging>) drank and then got all cute and sappy about my husband.
Sarah: Bruce ..(something something something, can't shut up about how much I love Bruce, I'm so freaking sappy).
Todd: (Huge Sigh).. Yeah, I really miss that guy.
Lisa also told me that Todd has been really cute about him - worrying that he had so much fun playing pool and wants to do it again but doesn't want to "come on too strong". Also, what if he can't ever find him online ever again? So sad. Bruce, you'll have to make sure he can find you, somehow.
I'm writing this because at five in the morning, Todd and Lisa went to bed from the couch, and I woke up and got a case of the melancholies. I miss Bruce, and haven't been able to get ahold of him yet. (I hope you had a good weekend!) I also got some really really sad news, and I had to start crying about it for a while.
Here's my Kitty. His names are Kitty and Otis.
He's got two names because my father is the namer of the pets in my parents' household, and it took him almost a week to come up with Otis. (You know, from Milo and Otis, wherein Otis was the pug. My dad is hillarious. Skinterruption: I always thought that movie was a little "off", and I'm guessing that it's because it was japanese, I just noticed that. Interesting.) Anyway, in the interim week at our house, we were calling him Kitty, and it stuck. We're not really those boring people who don't have anything creative to do with naming, honest. My dad was just slow. Kitty responded to both names. Here is his Senior Portrait. (Taken when he was but a wee lad.)
This is the man who loved Bruce before I did. I say man, perhaps I should say eunich. In any case, if he could hear I was on the phone with B, he'd run from any corner of the house to snuggle up to the phone with me - sometimes to the point of making it impossible for me to either talk or listen - and purrrrrr.
I guess that Kitty had an intestinal blockage a while ago. My daddy took him into the vet, and when he came back he was very sad and told my mom not to even ask about it. I guess it was pretty bad. I couldn't ask any more questions about it because my mom was getting upset. I think if she had it her way, I'd just forget about my beloved pets altogether, and that way she could just never tell me. She actually looked a little pissed off that I asked where he was.
Of course, I feel like the most horrible person in the world because after Augie died, I talked to my mom on the phone and it was the first time in his life that I didn't ask how he was doing - and then she didn't tell me for weeks. And now, this. And I didn't ask where he was when I stopped in at home before going to the fucking bar. (God, Sarah, what's wrong with you? How selfish can you be? Fuck.) I just assumed he was sleeping somewhere. Why, why why why why why?
My beautiful Kitty. He was technically Robby's, but if you know me, you know I threw my weight around when he was picking him out. My sweet, sweet Kitty. You were so so so stupid, and I loved you so much. I'm sorry you had to go, and I'm sorrier that my family is so chickenshit that I didn't hear about it until much after the fact, I couldn't even give you the thoughts and mourning you deserved so much. I couldn't write about it and let the world (well, you five, anyway) see how beautiful you were, and tell them how you were the best cat a girl who wasn't that fond of cats could ever hope for.
Now my parents are sitting at home, my dad's in the bedroom upstairs, and there's no pet there to keep them company. People will tell me, "At least they have each other." Those are people who don't understand. If you feel the urge to say that to me, please don't - you're comparing a person to an animal, and that's just not right. In most cases, animals are MUCH better companions than people. There's nothing acceptable about implying that an animal would be worse company than my mom or dad. They need a third party in the house, and I want to look in the paper tomorrow and drag home the first free kitten I see, just so I know they're not sitting around in that house with nothing but each other. They only just got used to having no kids. What are they going to do? But I can't go and pick them out a pet, it's wrong and they'd be mad at me. "We'll do it on our own time, when we're ready." I hate it. I can't stand the idea of anyone I love not having someone around who loves them completely without conditions. My poor parents.
I'm going to stop writing now, I'm bawling, and I don't want to wake up my hosts. Would that be the creepiest way to wake up ever? To the sound of sobbing coming from the glowing silhoutte at your computer screen? I'm guessing it might be.
I'm feeling a little better now, I just had to get up and get that off my chest. I was finally smart enough to check my email, and the best husband in the world had written to me - it made me feel so much better. I feel bad because I haven't been able to get ahold of him, but now I'm feeling a little bit better.
It's a good thing that I can't sleep as well without him around, but it also sucks at six in the morning in a strange new place.
I miss you, Kitty/Otis. You'll always be remembered, and always thought of with love.