where the writers are
Lord of the Tenth Life

On June 2nd, the Lord of the Tenth Life welcomed my Jonah. I have nothing good to say about death, although I generally approve of it when it's time and when I myself am not grieving.  A little while back I blogged about my aging dog, who is still aging. I worried that I wouldn't know the right time, the time to help her leave this world and move to my garden. Jonah's life ended quickly of a particularly aggressive cancer. If a cat could be called elegant, that would be Jonah. He was serious in demeanor, nothing silly about him. He was all business and love. I acquired him from my neighbors - Leo, a chemist and inventor, died in his 80s of ALS. Shirley developed Alzheimer's, although she managed to get her BA degree when she was 70, from PSU. They were special. They had two cats. The young pretty kitten went with Shirley to the facility her daughter chose for her. Knowing the fate of cats like Jonah, I said I'd take him. I'd always liked him. He followed Shirley wherever she went, down the street, around the corner, to the grocery store, to the bus stop. She had to trick and evade him to protect him from traffic and other assorted things that kill kitties. His stay in life was 11 years. The last three of those he slept between Adam and me and purred through the night, as soothing as rain for my sleep. Another of my cats, Samantha, had grown very close to him. During his last two days she didn't leave his side; she put her paw and her head on his hind quarters and stayed that way. These days she sits outside under the camellia bush where Jonah is buried. I ascribe nothing to this, or everything to this. Perhaps it's just a perfect shady spot with soft grass to take a nap. Who of us knows?