Cotton Ball Tears

Tonight the sight of a cotton ball made me cry. It’s been one week since my beautiful, faithful cat Bridget passed away. And she loved to chase cotton balls. So tonight when I reached for a cotton ball to remove my nail polish with, I just started to cry.

Bridget was my companion for nearly 16 years and was right there beside me for all the big moments in life. Cats are very independent and Bridget was probably more independent than most. She would always come love on me at bedtime, but sleep in the closet in her little corner; she never slept on the bed with me – unless I was sick or sad. When my dad died, she slept in the bed with me off and on for about a month. It was like she could sense the nights when I needed her to be there for me.

My friend Shannon brought me Bridget my last semester of college. I took 21 hours that semester and worked full time, so how I was able to raise a kitten I have no idea. I guess that’s why she was so independent. Bridget moved with me 11 times. She never complained, she just moved with me and adapted. She lived with dogs, she lived with teenagers and she even lived in an apartment that didn’t allow pets – all just to be with me, her momma.

She once got stuck in between the kitchen cabinet and the wall – I think I had to take part of the cabinet out to get her out! She used to love to roll around on the concrete patio, especially if it was sunny. I bought her lots of cute cat toys over the years, but she was never very impressed with them. Bridget preferred to play with Q-tips, tampons, twisty ties, milk rings, makeup sponges, rubber bands and hair bands, erasers (she would chew them to bits!) and most of all, cotton balls.

My apartment seems so empty now. It’s amazing how such a small creature had such a large presence. The hardest part is walking into my apartment from the garage. I expect to hear a kitty meow through the door and when I don't, my heart sinks. I get up and walk to another room and instinctively look for her, then I realize she's not there. I cannot believe how much I miss her. It’s left a hole in me, just like when dad died. My cotton ball tears eventually stopped tonight and turned into a smile. I know that my baby’s in a better place, surrounded by as many cotton balls as she could possibly want.

I love you, Bridget

Today I found out that my almost 16 year cat, Bridget, has a large tumor in her belly. The vet says she won't survive surgery and recommends putting her down soon. I'm not ready. Bridget has been with me since college...we've moved 11 times and have been through lots of changes together. And through it all, she still loves me. And I love her.

Cover dog

Took a great shot of my mom's dog, Hero. Just had to share. Added ones of my sister's dog, Cali, and my cat, Bridget...don't want any of the little critters to get jealous. :)

That's my baby

So every year I get the cutest Holiday photo cards from my friends with kids. I truly believe that aside from my own nephew, my friends have the most adorable kiddos in the world. I thoroughly enjoy getting the cards, but every year I get a little jealous because I don't have little ones to show off. Well today, my 14 year old cat named Bridget reminded me that she truly is my baby. As independent as she is, there are times when she still needs my help. A few minutes ago, she somehow managed to get her head stuck in the handle of a plastic bag, so she ran into the room where I was, dragging the bag along with her. She looked up at me with her big, beautiful blue eyes and meowed the most pitiful cry. So what do I, the loving mother, do? I laugh and immediately pick up the camera! Poor baby. But don't worry, I quickly removed the bag from around her neck and gave her lots of loving. Poor baby. :)

a perfect pedicure

So I was doing laundry tonight and the TV was on in the living room, but I wasn't really paying attention to it. Then I hear the announcer say something like, "a perfect pedicure in just minutes!" So I turned my attention to the TV immediately. I'm in desperate need of a pedicure, after all. My excitement was immediately squelched, however, when I realized it was actually an infomercial for this product:



Ugh.

“My cat is stuck in the toilet”

Thankfully my cat, Bridget, has never gotten stuck in the toilet like the one in this story, but she has gotten herself into some pickles. Several years ago, while staying in a temporary business housing until my apartment was ready, Bridget got stuck in between the kitchen cabinets and the walls. I of course wasn’t supposed to have an animal in the temporary housing, so I had to sneak her in and play the TV all day long to muffle her meows. She’s part Siamese and very vocal, so this was no easy task. And when she was younger, she loved to climb and explore any nook or cranny she could find. Well, I guess she found a big enough hole to climb through. I don’t remember how I got her out of the wall, but thankfully, it didn’t involve destruction of anything or calling 911!

And then there was the time Bridget looked up at me from the floor while I was trying to fall asleep. Ok, she does that every night. And usually, she jumps onto the bed and I pet her for about two minutes, then she jumps off and goes to her little bed in the closet. But this night, her equilibrium must have been way off, because she jumped and smacked her little kitty head square onto the side of the mattress. I mean she really missed her mark! I couldn’t stop laughing long enough to make sure she was ok, but thankfully, she was.

My last story about Bridget is probably my favorite. Many years ago, my friend Cheree was cat sitting for me while I was out of town and would go check on Bridget every day. One day, she walked all over the house and could hear Bridget meowing, but couldn’t find her anywhere! She opened the oven and all the cabinets, thinking that maybe the cat had climbed into one of them. She said she could hear Bridget’s meows the loudest in the kitchen, so she stood there, puzzled for a few minutes. All of a sudden, Cheree felt something gently touch her head. She said she jumped out of her skin…she looked up and there, on top of the refrigerator, sat Bridget. I would have paid good money to be a fly on the wall watching that unfold. I’m positive Bridget planned the whole thing and got a good laugh out of it at Cheree’s expense.

Damn cat. But I love her – and for the record, yes, I would bust up my toilet too if she got stuck in it.