Monday, September 27, 2010

Birds, flowers and books.

In the garden a few blooms of honeysuckle still cleave the memory of summer to the old pear tree. Now it bustles with birds as they have found the feeders with seeds and fat balls. So, bright, so busy, where once there was a riot of flowers, now there is a riot of birds. The one sweet scented, the other sweet voiced.
And I have planned out my day. One hour painting, fifteen minutes reading, Firebrand by Gillian Philip published by Strident.
In my pocket a talisman. The breast feather of a peregrine falcon.

Later: Some days do not go according to plan. Martha, my oldest cat, had been ailing for some time. Today Kath, friend and vet came and confirmed my decision to help Martha out of life and away from the terrible decline into old age that she had fallen. Although she had drunk a little over the last four days she had eaten little. And so in the warm late summer sun Kath put Martha to sleep in the garden. I was amazed at how quick, how peaceful this was. Pixie sat by our side, her paw on Martha. Max watched from a distance and Elmo got very distracted by the birds on the bird feeders and flung himself up a tree.
Many tears were shed and I went to get a spade to dig a hole. There is something very cathartic about being able to dig and bury and keep close the shells of the cats after life has left them.
First I tried to dig a hole where Martha had been sitting in the warm sun that day. It was a favorite place, beneath the roses, next to the moonjar, warm, sheltered, hidden. And very shallow of soil. I soon hit rock.
Next I thought to place her next to her brother, Arthur, who died years back. So I started to dig and was surprised to find a half brick, and then some duplo toys. I dug a bit further and there was Arthur. Not next to Arthur, but on him! He was a big cat. Even his bones were beautiful. What could be better than for Martha's resting place to be with her brother. Conceived together, they grew in the womb of the same she cat, mother a moggie, father a handsome Siamese filanderer. They grew and were born together and now they would rest together until their bones mingled in the dark soil. So I placed Martha in and covered them both again, and put a heavy slate over them both.

She was a good cat.

13 comments:

  1. I admire that you accomplish so much serious work and have time as well to walk and capture beautiful scenes to share.
    If I alloted myself 15 minutes to read, I know I would cheat.

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  2. Tears are flowing for your beautiful words and very sad loss. Hugs to you all.x

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  3. Your post made me think about the circle of life. And you describe it so eloquently. Every Blessing

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  4. What a lovely resting place for dearest Martha to be with her catkin brother Arthur. Kits always know when there is the "passing time" and I think Elmo was hurting, but found a different way to express his "manly" soft side. He misses Martha just as you all do. May she be blessed in her next life and may her cat wings take her on great adventures. My thoughts are with you all in Wales.

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  5. All cats are good cats, be they still here or passed on. Martha will come again.

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  6. Beautiful words well wrought from deep in the heart

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  7. Fate (or Martha? or Arthur?) guided your spade to the perfect spot. So right and fitting that Martha begin her next journey from the same spot Arthur began his. "Goodbye's" are hard. I wish you many happy "hello's," Martha, where ever your journey takes you.

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  8. Beautiful, Jackie. Just beautiful. What a perfect ending to a lovely full life.

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  9. Helping a cat to die comfortably, then burying the body, all the other animals partaking in this ceremony, I have done this so many times, and each time it brings me such peace, that I am able to offer this to one I have loved. The balm for the tears is the turning back to the other animals, the long tale of loves. So sad for you, and you bring tears to all our eyes, but, around the world, we grieve and celebrate together. They are all good cats.

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  10. A lovely way to go, peaceful and with friends.

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  11. What a beautiful post. Your cats are lucky to have such a great human taking care of them. And you, of course, are lucky to have them in your life.
    It touched me to tears to read how Pixie helped her old friend along, animals never cease to amaze me.

    Obviously Arthur was happy to welcome his sister, they will be chasing mice together where ever it is cats go afterwards.

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  12. It is hard to loose a dear friend-cat, harder still to make the kind decision to let them go. Peace be with you, Jackie, and with Martha.

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  13. What more can be said than that... She was a good cat. A perfect epitaph. Lovely to read of Pixie's paw upon Wise Old Martha.

    Mortuis Libamur - Let us drink to the Dead

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