Memories of Sweet Pea

It’s been one year since Sweet Pea died.  Actually, I guess it’s been slightly less than a year, as she died in the afternoon of the 17th and right now it’s just early morning.  Still, it’s the 17th, a day I’ve been thinking about for quite some time.  Even with four cats and now three kittens in the house, I miss Sweet Pea… I don’t think a day goes by that I don’t think about her.  I miss her cute little white feet, and the stripe that ran down the middle of her nose, and the tiny little hairs which stuck up from the tip of each ear.  None of the cats we have now have “ear tip hair”, yet Sweet Pea’s were so prominent.  I remember the last night she was alive, because Flippy was playing with Sweet Pea and the Kitty Tease Deluxe.  I remember lifting Sweet Pea up to carry her into the bird room at night when she asked to go to bed (yes, she liked to sleep in with the birds, and she would come and ask me to put her in the room when she was tired).  I always took the time to give her a little cuddle and a neck rub when I put her to bed, as it was one of the few times of day she’d let me touch her for any length of time without biting me.  I also know that while I was holding her I told her I loved her, because I did that every night.  The next day is still sort of a blur, but I do remember opening the bird room door in the morning, and seeing Sweet Pea still lying in the cubby hole of her cat tree, looking at me.  That was odd because she’d usually jump right up and be at the door as soon as she heard the door knob.  I don’t know why I didn’t think to go in and see her, because it did cross my mind that she was out of her normal routine, but I didn’t.  And then things went downhill until four hours later, when she died at the vet’s office.  At least I got to kiss her head and hold her little white feet before she died, and she purred at me and was kind and gentle the entire day—an indication that something was absolutely amiss.  It’s now a year later, and her ashes sit on my desk, with her collar and tags.  There used to be a little cat toy up there too, but I think Frank ran off with it.  I love all the cats we have now, dearly, and they were all a big help in letting me put my grief behind me, but it’s funny how I still have such a empty space that was filled by the cat who used to bite me all the time and steal my socks. 

Sweet Pea does leave a wonderful legacy behind.  While my philosophy before her death was “no more cats”, I missed her so much that we opened our doors to many more cats.  Because of Sweet Pea we have Chelsea, Jackson, Derek, and Frank, and because of Sweet Pea I’m finally doing something to work in the veterinary field.  Because of Sweet Pea I blog about animals, I read lots of books, and I think I’ve really become a better cat owner and a more informed person about animal welfare issues.  For one little cat, she was sure able to facilitate a lot of positive change.

So Sweet Pea, I still miss you.  But I’m a better person because of you.  And the day one of the cats wanders in with one of my socks in its mouth, I’ll know it’s just you waving hello.

image

(Sweet Pea among the Christmas wrapping paper, probably in December 2001 or 2002).

Posted by Leigh-Ann on 12/16 at 11:56 PM

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  1. What a lovely little girl.  I am so sorry for your loss.

    “We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle, easily and often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way. We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan.”
    ~Irving Townsend

    Posted by Simply Coll  on  12/17  at  12:20 PM

  2. Thank you for the supportive words and the nice quotation, Coll.  I spent the day remembering Sweet Pea as I cared for the little kittens… a good reminder about “the circle of life”.

    Posted by Leigh-Ann  on  12/17  at  11:04 PM

  3. Good ol’ Sweet Pea.  I fondly remember the first moment I realized a cat could bite you while it was purring.

    Heh, sock babies.

    I think Sweet Pea came back.  She looks a little different and she calls herself Chelsea, but it’s her alright.

    Posted by FlippyO  on  12/17  at  11:21 PM

  4. Such a touching post, Leigh-Ann.  You actually brought me to tears with your memories.  Sweet Pea left a wonderful legacy.  I am certain that your other cats are appreciative.  Like you, I have a little urn of my beloved’s ashes on my desk along with some of his feathers that I picked up from under his cage.  It has been a few months since my buddy passed, but the empty hole is still there. 

    That is a wonderful quote, Colleen.  How very true.

    Posted by Expat  on  12/19  at  04:56 PM
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