There are a few things I know about myself. I like to write. If there is an idea I want to write about, and I don't do it, I won't be able to write anything else. The words just need to be written and denying that, stops the whole process. It's a healing thing for me. Put it into words and then move on. So this is the post that has been keeping me from blogging for a few weeks now.
Tigger, one of our barn cats, died. It was an accident. One of those freaky things that can happen but we don't like to dwell on the details or we would be blaming ourselves. It's complicated and sad and we feel guilty. But lets just put this out there, cats should not sleep near machinery. It's a bad idea. Okay.
Tigger came to us 10 years ago as an unwanted kitten. A friend of one of my kids had an unspayed kitten producing machine. We adopted three kittens for our barn. If you have a barn, you know why a few cats are necessary. We spayed and neutered the babies and got them acclimated to living at the farm. But, Tigger, pulled a fast one on us. He seemed different than the other two. We thought that he might be deaf, so we decided to bring him to our house, so he wouldn't be hurt. Five years and many pieces of ruined furniture later, the kitten who was not deaf at all, returned to the farm. While we loved him very much, repeatedly buying new couches was becoming a bit of a drain. He could open doors, knock everything off a table, eat paper, and generally be everywhere he didn't need to be. We had two cats at the house and we could not be sure which one decided to use the couch as a litter box occasionally, so both Tigger and Splash were relocated to the farm. Tigger loved his new life style. He guarded the baby animals, he watched over the chickens, chased chipmunks away and played in the vegetable garden. Tigger would accompany us on walks in the woods, trailing behind like a puppy.
The hardest part of all, is that Tigger was my morning greeter. Welcome to the new day. Why are you late for my feeding! If Tigger was not there to greet my arrival in the morning, I would go looking for him. Occasionally he would be all cozy in a secluded sleeping spot and oversleep. But he would never stray far from his new home.
Our hearts were so heavy after Tigger died. It was an accident. He fell asleep in a really dangerous spot. I don't know why he didn't wake up and move. But now he is gone and his buddy Little Friend has taken over as the greeter and follower. Life at the farm goes forward. But Tigger will be missed.
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