RIP Little Maggie
Somebody ran down my Little Maggie last night. They didn’t stop. They didn’t care. I imagine they were either speeding, texting, talking on their phone or any combination thereof. They probably didn’t even notice they killed my cat. Asshole.
I rescued her from near the Hall a few months ago, it took her a while to really open up to us but when she did she was a perfect little lady. She even carved out a little niche for herself on my desk so she could lay there watching me while I wrote. She was a very sweet little kitty that was just starting to grow into a nice cat although I don’t know if physically one would ever have been able to call her a full grown cat. I have no idea how old Little Maggie was but she is so named because she was so little even though all of her features suggested she was older than she appeared. When she first came home she would sleep in this weird little ball with her hind legs stretched up over her head, I soon realized that wherever she’d been sleeping before it was a very small space that she deemed safe for sleeping. It took her a while but she eventually learned to stretch out anywhere she wanted. Mostly our bed. Especially if it was unmade. She liked to sleep under the covers.
Our poor neighbor came over last night to tell hubby Little Maggie was…gone. I thought it was odd when hubby went outside to talk to him instead of having him come in and then I got the news. Harry came in with hubby and it seemed he understood what happened. People say cats don’t have more than one expression but that’s not true. It’s in their eyes and, just like when Ozzie died, Harry understood his friend…our friend…was gone. Poor Harry, he liked having a buddy again. My hubby gave Little Maggie a nice burial while I cried inside. When it comes to animals struck by cars I just can’t look thankfully he is stronger than I am in that department.
We don’t know who ran her down or was thoughtless enough to just leave her in their tail lights but I hope a house falls on them.
Even though it was late, I went up and cried some more and had a bath and BIG glass of wine and cried some more and got condolences from my FB friends….thanks guys n gals! We snuggled up and watched some TV. I took two Unisom and fell asleep.
I had the most f’d up dream!
The night before I dreamed of….snow sculptures. So beautiful, so tall and so real I swore they were right in front of me. One was this absolutely massive temple that incorporated every single type of religion you can think of in its design and architecture. It was freaking gorgeous! It was even hand painted with stained glass windows and doors. The top had a dark blue circle/oval shape trimmed in gold with an overflowing urn in the center just filled with grapes, apples, cherries, bananas, all kinds of fruit. It was stunning. Another was an absolutely massive sculpture of a man, bearded, long robes, looking toward the temple with one hand raised in greeting. On the other side of him was a sculpture of a woman, she was hidden by the trees from where I was standing.
I thought about that dream all day yesterday.
Last night, I dreamed my husband left me for an older woman. MUCH older. She looked a lot like my Aunt Bess who died 40 years ago; she was very slight/slim, long silver/gray hair, nicely dressed, but her skin was paper thin and wrinkled. Wrinkled ALL over, as at some point, I walked in on them having SEX! He kept telling me that he was in love with her and there as nothing I could do about it. She was snotty–unlike my Aunt Bess–and I hated her. Old or not, I didn’t care, I jumped her every chance I could get. Sometimes people intervened and held me back and sometimes I got her. At one point someone shouted at me to ‘stop beating that old woman!’ I shouted back; “I will! As soon as she’s DEAD! I’ll stop beating her.” I got arrested. I got taken to Court. The Judge asked why he shouldn’t charge with me the ‘special crime’ of ‘assault on an elderly person’. I told him he could charge me with ‘assault on a bitch’ if he wanted but that was about it, I didn’t give a crap how old she was. At some point she told me she was going to take my husband and everything I had including my house! I looked at her and told her fuck off, the house is MINE. (It is.) I showed her the deed that does not have his name on it. She left. That was the end of her. i was pissed that she just sort of disappeared because I didn’t get to kill her.
I woke up this morning to hubby dribbling coffee onto my sleeping lips.🙂
I told him all about my dream. He thinks I’m crazy but that’s ok he already thought that.
We kicked around the idea of getting a new pet. Maybe another cat. Maybe a dog this time.
I looked around online for pets in my area and only got more depressed. If there are really that many black cats/kittens at the local animal shelter then I have no idea how I could ever walk in there. I’d have to walk out with ALL of them. Then I could be the Crazy Black Cat Lady. They won’t replace my Little Maggie, all cats have their own unique personality and she was one of a kind. I miss her. I will for a long time to come.
I looked at the dogs, most are a pit bull-mix. I don’t mind getting a pit bull but my ideal dog starts at a Saint Bernard and goes up from there. So again, hubby and I have a difference of opinion. I want two of them and we can either name one King and the other one Stephen or we can name one Coo and the other Joe🙂 Or one of those Russian Caucasian Mountain Dogs they’d be cool to have but probably need a special license or something for one of those.
In the end, we’ll probably not adopt a pet. Not through a shelter anyway. We’ll wait for the next one to find us and say they want to live here. That’s how we get pretty much most of our pets; they just show up one day and move in. Sort of weird, huh?