Two years later I am still missing him.
I am beginning the process of unraveling my other blog site, zenkatwrites;
not going to use it anymore.
I don’t want my writing to be separate from my artwork,
and there was too much division of me — split in two parts.

Now my writing on Buddhism, family, cats,
politics (oh gads not much what is there to say?),
and the entire enchilada will be here.

And I came across this on zenkatwrites.
We just passed the anniversary of his death yesterday.
This was what I posted the day he died, and I still feel it today;
get out your hankies….

“There are no happy endings.
Endings are the saddest part,
So just give me a happy middle
And a very happy start.”
― Shel Silverstein, Every Thing on It

Saying goodbye to Govinda Jai today.
Heart is breaking open.
Unplugging for the day.  Breathing in loss, sending sunflowers.

It was hard to be in the studio after.
I love all our guys but you know how every so often a really special cat comes along?
He was that.
Crying again.  Breathing in loss, sending sunflowers.

I keep looking for him because frankly we humans are the most bumm-fuzzled beings.

He had very very bad IBS at the end no thanks to Newman’s Own
for mislabeling their carageenan-riddled “organic” cat food for five years
so they didn’t have to reprint labels.
Breathing in anger, sending sunflowers.
We are washing three huge loads of washrags and bed covers and
oh gads and I’d do it again if it wasn’t for the simple fact that he was miserable.
He wasn’t completely miserable for too long — a few days —
but he wasn’t going to come back from it, we just knew.
Two nights ago we had to put him on special food which looked like astronaut food.
He looked at us with big eyes as if the whole thing was a bad joke.
Breathing in loss, sending sunflowers.
He made his point by vomiting behind my desk chair —
I can’t handle the smell.  Give me shit to clean up any day but I vomit when others do!

We are having Annie’s Enchiladas because we’ve been cooking for him too and I just can’t tonight.  He ate something cat appropriate off our plates every night, even if we had to fool him, which we were not often able to do, then he would stare at us, betrayed.
Breathing in loss, sending sunflowers.

Last night I woke to a dream about an airplane — huge super sized bigger than life
plane — landing on the runway in front of me with a thud that woke me straight up out of my sleep.  Some things went on at that time with him and then we knew.
Breathing in loss, sending sunflowers.

He came up to spend time with me cuddling, which frankly he has not done for a few weeks.  I think the  steroids made him more aloof, and the discomfort.
But he came for kisses-on-his-head (a ritual for him, done anywhere he wanted them) and cuddles and I napped with him in my arms and my head on Mitchell’s shoulder,
smelling his head which smelled like cookies for some reason.
Breathing in loss, sending sunflowers.

He had whatever the hell he wanted for breakfast, no tortuous space food.

He was right by my side in the middle of the night when I was up
and painting and roaming about.

I am asking the Great Is to send him back to us.

Breathing in loss, sending sunflowers.

Heart broken wide open.

©D. Katie Powell.
My images/blog posts may be reposted; please link back  to dkatiepowellart.