CoCo's Last Day

CoCo's world was growing smaller. On her last day I held her and we walked in the sun on the driveway. She could hear the birds and feel the warmth of the sun. We walked back in the house and I took her to mom to say goodbye, then to Janet the caregiver who gave CoCo her lunch everyday while I was at work. Back on the porch I gently sat her down and she ate one last cat treat, then I put her in her hut.  I took a pinch of catnip and set it on her pillow, while we waited for her 10:30 appointment with death.

 I sang to her in the car on the way to the vet. The little made up ditties that women sing to cats. I talked and she meowed now and then. A weak little noise, letting me know she was still there. One last look at the day light as she popped her head up from her box.

We sat on the bench outside. Not enough time. They took us in so soon. I could have sat on the bench longer with my little friend, but it was time to go.

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( We buried her that day under her favorite tree, the Ginkgo, in the backyard.  The picture above is her in better times.... she used the tree as a scratchbox and there was a ring around it as high as she could reach.)

And the Healing has Begun

Van the Man Turns 70 Soon

Van Morrison will turn 70 on August 31st.  Ireland radio is going nuts with a week's worth of special programming and there is also a plan to air a "live" concert on his birthday.  What a remarkable career. Blues, jazz, pop, Irish music, country... this list goes on.  I've been listening to Van since 1992.  How do I know this? Because I met a guy, and you know how it is, you start talking and getting to know one another. You ask simple questions. Where did you go to school?  What kind of music do you listen to? And there it was. Van Morrison.  Okay, I said, who else do you listen to really?  Just Van Morrison.

I remember thinking the guy was strange. All I could  name was Brown Eyed Girl  and Domino.  

And then he made me a cassette tape. You know the kind. If you are a certain age, you remember.  A cassette tape of your favorite songs all put together. He put some songs from one album, some music off another. I was hooked.  A lot of stuff from Hymns to the Silence. 

Here I am so many years later, and I'm still hooked.  I have drawers full of CD's with bootlegged concerts that were traded back and forth.  Then there are VCR tapes I'll never watch again that were second and third generation recordings of bits of Van on various shows. Now they are all on YouTube.

I even have a CD of  Fans playing the music of Van Morrison from all over the world.  ( I'm on there, too singing with my guitar.  At this point I don't even remember what song, because I recorded so many in my little studio in my old apartment.)  It gave me joy to work out the chords and play some of my favorites. 

Happy Birthday Van. Thanks for all the music.  

The Spirit is Willing but the Body is Weak

There is something so poignant about caring for Coco, my aging cat whose body is wearing out, her life becoming smaller and fragile. She can hear the birds, but I don't know if she sees them. The Bluejays swoop from the rain gutter onto the driveway and pick up peanuts, while I sit, Coco on lap, in a chair in front of the garage. Each night now she endures "sub-q" fluids. A B-12 shot on Fridays. One meow as the needle goes in, and then she is patient. We are on borrowed time now together. Spending it with the birds.