Friday, April 24, 2009

Digging a Hole

There is something very personal, final, and rather cathartic about digging a grave. Even for a beloved kitty. Buddy died in his sleep last night. Even though I knew it was coming before I went to bed, I wasn't really prepared for the sight of him this morning. Or how hard it would be to wrap him up in a sheet. Rowdy came in the room and kept nudging him with his nose. That just about put me over the edge.

Here are a few things about my Buddy. I got him at PAWS after my separation. My dad started calling him Buddy since he followed me like a puppy when he first came home. I think he thought I was going to run off. I wanted to name him something noble like Fitzwilliam Darcy or King Henry. But Buddy stuck. He also had the softest fur ever. Bunny fur. If he could have spoken I think he would have had a very posh British accent.

And I loved him.


  1. I have a big lump in my throat. I am so sorry.

  2. And I know he loved you very much. You were the best mommy he could have asked for. I am sorry that you had to go through that.
    When you held him yesterday and said sweet things into his ear, his tail swooshed a few beats in loving acknowledgment.
    He will always remain in my memory as the softest kitty I have ever had the acquaintance to meet and share a home with. ♥

  3. He's so sweet looking! I had to bury a black and white cat that I had for 14 years named Fluffy! It's hard. God bless!

  4. So sorry Karen !! We have lost so many pets, I know how you feel ! Teri