Ten-Finger Exercises

Goodbye, Emily.

I see by the calendar that I haven't been writing as regularly as before. Maybe I was being extra good, hoping to win the blogging prize. Sorry, whatever the reason, that I've fallen behind.

Yesterday was Emily's last day. Although I told the vet I wanted them to let her go if it looked like that was what was happening, they gave her back saying she was doing well. She was not. She never let me hold her again, never wanted to stay inside in the cool, despite the very hot weather that she generally detested. She came in every evening, meowed, and left for places unknown somewhere in the backyard. Evidently she was in the garden one night after I turned on the sprinklers, because she came in soaked, but wouldn't be dried off, wouldn't stay in.

We'd had no irrigation water while we were gone, and Bill spent a lot of time working on the problem. Just as we were ready to leave for the park for him to help in the CAP booth, we saw water coming out of the ground from under a flagstone walk, no place near a sprinkler head.

When we got back home, he dug down and found three pipes there. Couldn't tell which was leaking, and called a plumber who can't get here till Friday.

There was a large pile of cool wet dirt beside the hole, and that's where we found Emily last night, lying there like a queen on her throne, except for the flies.

Some people would like to go be alone when they're dying, I know that's true. I haven't seen it happen often, but occasionally a person will turn his head to the wall and just withdraw. I've heard that cats often run away and hide, but Emily couldn't get out of the back yard.

I will remember her looking cool and queenly, or nagging me to put away my laptop and make room for her.