When I got dressed this morning, I went to put on one of my favorite necklaces, an enamel heart, and noticed that it was chipped. I wore it anyway. It sums today up.
I debated whether to write anything today or not. I hate the idea of seeming overly dramatic or maudlin or histrionic, and my logical self is telling me to wait til I am a bit more settled, but the other part is telling me to write while it is all on the surface. That part obviously won out.
Yesterday Thom's biopsy results came back, and they unfortunately proved to be pretty much the worst they could be. His liver was so bad that if he were a human, he'd be on the transplant list...there were few liver cells still functioning, he was borderline anemic/in need of transfusion, and was having a problem maintaining his fluid balance (read: fluid collecting in his abdomen). The vet made it clear that there was nothing we can do to make him "better" - there are some medications that could be given that might prolong things for a few days or weeks, but really that is as good as we could hope. So the Boy and I picked him up yesterday, and brought him home for the night, and I am glad we did - he hated the hospital sooo much (he is way too nervous for that kind of place), and at least he had one quiet night. This morning he hopped on the bed and came up to my head, and we cuddled for a good long time. It was good to hear him purr and see him relax after seeing him so distressed in the hospital for the last few days. But it is my duty as his human to make decisions about his well being (his well being vs my own desire not to let him go, which is one of those truly awful balancing acts), and so he was put down today - age 10 years, three months. It was as peaceful a passing as any of us can hope for.
I know everyone thinks their cat is amazing, but Thom really was. I had decided to get a British Shorthair because I liked their looks, but more importantly I liked how they were described - sturdy, quiet, low key cats that wanted to be with you, but not necessarily ON you. He was a classic example of the breed both in looks and temperament. When I first saw him as a kitten, he was unbelievably cute, but he was so shy that he squeezed his body between the cushions of the couch to hide, and hissed when I tried to pick him up. I actually wondered if I should take him based on that reaction - I worried that the hissing was a sign of things to come - but I braved it, and home he came, along with his "sister" (actually his niece if you look at the family tree, but who looks at family trees?) Maggie. What I ended up with was honestly the sweetest natured, gentlest cat you could hope for - he never scratched or lashed out at me, or the vet, or anyone, no matter how scared he was or what indignity he was being subjected to (the polar opposite to his very lovable but generally imperious and slightly indignant sister). Add that to his incredible handsomeness (in a slightly alien handsome way), a purr so loud and hard it would almost choke him, and his general sociability and you had one truly remarkable boy. If anyone wants to see more of his handsome self, just click on the "cats" link (or the *snap* link!) to the side of this blog and be amazed that a creature that looked like Thom could even exist (I should add, he was a camera whore - as soon as he saw the camera, he would start rolling around and posing).
I can't express how much I will miss him - and I know I am not the only one - the Boy, and Thom's "Grandcat" will both miss him dearly I know. Unfortunately when you sign on to the joy that is having a pet in your life, you also sign on to the inevitable sorrow of saying goodbye. But as for me, despite the buckets of tears I seem to have shed over the last 24 hours, I just feel really lucky to have had such a remarkable, lovely beast in my life, even if it was for much too short a time.
So, it is just Miss Mags and me now - not that she isn't a large presence in the house (physically and in every other possible way). I think we will both be missing those giant orange eyes for quite a while to come.
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And this is the joy of Maggie. Unlike the sweet-natured (and slightly gormless) Thomas, she makes you work for it. She has rules. It doesn't mean she doesn't like hanging around with me - well, at least I assume so because she is usually lurking where ever I am when she is awake - but it also means she reserves the right to look slightly miserable while doing so (anyone with a teenager, or who has ever been a teenager, will know the look). I know a lot of cat lovers that avoid female cats - they are commonly thought to be more intelligent and bit more...difficult... at least in comparison to the male of the species (why does that sound familiar?) But somehow, that makes them all that much more interesting. 
Well, things are starting to move, ever so slowly, on the reno front. I finally decided on this vanity, ordered it, expected it to take 6 weeks and it took less than 2. It was a big purchase, sight unseen - and I unpacked it with a bit of worry. Thankfully I like it. It is now sitting
(without the sink top) in the middle of my dining room (if you can call it a dining room), waiting for me to call the contractor and see when he can get started. I should mention I don't like the knobs it came with, so I am now obsessing as only I can about replacements. I will be going white ceramic, but which white ceramic remains to be seen - as you can see I've bought two different ones so far (actually I've bought three, but the third is a no). No doubt will be buying a whole bunch of random ceramic knobs trying to figure it out. I have also been obsessing about flooring - I am going for the black and white hex and dot shown above...really, I have no idea what I'm doing, but I hope it looks ok in the end. For some reason I can't quite understand it is all starting to remind me of a Vermeer. If only I could fit a harpsichord in beside the toilet...hmmm.
