I got a call from the vet today.

“We have Simba’s ashes here.”

I went immediately to pick them up, and that familiar sinking feeling in my stomach emerged.

When I realized what I was doing, the tears began to flow uncontrollably. A floodgate opened.

The vet’s sweet intern, Curtis, ushered me into a side room and showed me the box. As he opened it up, he told me the vet and his staff got a gift for us because they like us, and because they know how special a cat Simba was.

They got us a clay paw print–and I am so grateful:

Here is the blue urn I ordered–Simba’s ashes inside:

God, he was such a beautiful cat. Such a special cat. A wise cat. One of the things I miss most, now that he’s gone, is how our eyes used to lock. It was as if he saw right through me, into the reality of my being. That’s right….He was an existential cat. We shared a sublimely existential love.

I’m supposed to be out on a date with my husband tonight. But, here I am, blogging away with the basketball game blaring on the TV in the background. We were supposed to go to an engagement party, and we are, certainly, long overdue for a date of any kind. But, Josh has caught my cold, so I called my parents and told them we wouldn’t be needing a babysitter tonight.

Another night on the couch, then. The Monkey in bed, Josh playing online poker, and me in front of my computer.

Lately, I feel like I’m living inside my head. Mourning is very isolating. It’s just you and the loved one–or the memory of the loved one in your head. I go about my day, but images of Simba keep emerging in my mind. Memories of my life with him–my university days, living alone in Toronto, moving in with my hubby, married life, and finally motherhood–all flooding to the fore. Simba was quietly with me for all of that. He was a constant. And, now he’s gone, and I move on. It’s a loss not only of a great friend, but of a feeling, of a part of my own being, and of a comfort that I took for granted (because I didn’t recognize it until it was gone).

The loss Simba has hit me harder than I would have ever imagined.

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I usually called him “Ba.” But, I also called him Symbol. I’d say, “I love you my Symbol of [fill in the blanks with any incongruous pair]“: “I love you, my Symbol of Strawberries and Paper,” “I love you, Symbol of Patience and Cake,” “I love you, my Symbol of Poop and World Peace,” and so forth….

Well, turns out he is indeed a symbol (among many other things that have nothing to do with me…). He is the symbol of my past….of my centre….of my “soul”….of my love….

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It was a week ago today that we said goodbye.
I love you, Symbol of Kisses and Tears….

That’s my theme song today.

Only I replace “Cameron” with “Haley.”

(I’m sure you remember the tune from Ferris Beuller’s Day Off.)

Honestly, it’s been in my head all day long.

“Why?” You ask….

Because I’m in serious mourning for my Ba, and I have a horribly terrible cold. Only, I can’t sing my song in bed with the lights off and that static electric ball thingy humming relaxingly away. Nope, up I get out of bed to rescue the little monkey from the pain of her impending teeth. DARK and early. She’s teething like crazy, and I can’t be bothered to rock her back to sleep for an hour, so I give in and nurse her till her precious little eyelids close. Meanwhile, I can’t breathe, and my head is pounding, and every time I swallow it hurts.

Later, when it’s BRIGHT and early, I drag myself out of bed to feed the monkey bananas and oatmeal and take her out for a walk to the park. I push her on the swing for a bit, which knocks me right out, makes me sweat and ache–yes, I’m tired after 2 minutes of swinging a 10-month old on a baby swing.

When Haley Went to Egypt’s Land….

So, I put her back in the carriage and take her to Mastermind. I figure she needs a new toy right now–especially with such a sad-faced (well, fake-smiling–I’m totally trying!), stuffy-nosed, sweaty, sluggish mama.

Turns out this is a really good idea. The toys perk me up a bit.

I get her this wind-up caterpillar, which I named Farfallina–after the caterpillar in one of my favourite kids’ books Farfallina & Marcel….

And, the V-tech Learn and Discover Driver….

But, then I get depressed again, because, in the end, all monkey wants to play with is the damn water bottle I bought on the walk….

When Haley Went to Egypt’s Land…Let My Haley Gooooo…..

By the way, I’ve taken to telling everyone in sight that “my cat died.” I bought a new mascara at Shopper’s Drug Mart, for example, and I told the salesguy “I’m just not taking my sunglasses off because my eyes are puffy because my cat died–but do you think I should get the black or the brown?”

And, at Booster Juice: “I don’t want the free booster because you don’t have the kind of booster I need…yeah, that’s right, my cat died–got anything for that?”

I guess I’m still in shock, and telling total strangers about it is helping me adapt to the reality that my sweet Ba’s no longer with me. He’s not “just a cat,” though. He’s my best friend. Dammit.

When Haley Went to Egypt’s Land…Let My Haley Gooooo….

The vet is coming to our home tomorrow to put our Simba peacefully to sleep.

My Dear Simbalove,
You are beautiful, majestic, wise, sensitive, proud, territorial, a mamma’s boy, sweet, affectionate, jealous, grumpy. You love your mommy, your food, your sweet self, the radiator by the window at the back of our house. You are the cleanest cat I know, and you have the softest fur in the world. You are butterscotch. Your different eyes — one green and one green and brown — are a symbol of your uniqueness. There are no words to convey my feelings for you.

I will miss the way you flick your tail when you’re mad.
I will miss the way you walk — like a lion.
I will miss your pride.
I will miss your cuddles and nuzzles.
I will miss your sweet smell.
I will miss your terrible, “dead tuna,” breath.
I will miss your magnificent eyes.
I will miss your bites and growls.
I will miss your dainty paws.
I will miss your wet, pink nose.
I will miss your mew — so high and wimpy for such a tough, majestic guy….
I will miss how you made me feel you only had eyes for me….

Thank you for being my best friend.
Thank you for hugging me.
Thank you for massaging my back.
Thank you for purring in my ear.
Thank you for protecting me.
Thank you for playing with me.
Thank you for being my companion in my lonely and scary graduate-school years.
Thank you for comforting me in my difficult pregnancy.
Thank you for cuddling with me.
Thank you for understanding my need to be a mom to our baby.
Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for loving me.
Thank you for loving me.

I will never forget you.

Good night, sweet Ba. I love you, and I’ll see you in my dreams.

This is making me crazy.
I’m tired.
I’m perpetually sad.
Though the monkey’d never know it.
I’m a mom.
And, I’m learning to be a role model even in the worst of times….
My Simba, my teacher….

So difficult….
I can’t mourn him because he’s still here.
And, yet, I miss him so so much already.

The vet called today and said my sweet buddy has an infection and needs a different medication. Yes, they made me pay for it. I just gave them $1400 from my savings to do nothing for him, and they have the nerve to ask me for another $30?!? It’s not a lot of money. But, it’s the principle of the thing. My cat is dying, I’m broke from it, and they’ve called me once since Ba’s been home to tell me to spend more money–oh, and to tell me they had originally sent him home to me expecting to see him back in a few days. Well, guess what? He’s not going back there. He’s staying put, in a place where he’s comfortable, where he can watch the squirrels outside and the leaves and the flowers, and where he gets hugged and petted and loved unconditionally.

When I went to pick up the medication, the vet didn’t come to greet me. The intern–sweet and sensitive Curtis–handed it over and regretfully took my money. He said he thought I was “so strong. If it were my cat going through what yours is, I don’t know what I’d do.” I’m trying to be strong. I’m going through what no animal lover should. I just try to keep thinking of the good in this situation: I’m lucky, I guess, because I’ve been given the chance to savour every last moment with Ba–a long good bye….So difficult, but a blessing, too.

Ba’s eating a bit more–still only out of my hand (except for his cookies, which he’s enjoying quite a bit!). Josh and I had a hell of a time sticking the fat needle in him (to inject him with the subcutaneous fluid). We had to sit there for 3 minutes–Josh holding the bag and me holding the needle and Simba. Can you say “brutal”? (I can’t wait to do it again this evening…ugh!) He is drinking from his bowl now, and not just from the kitchen sink. As you can see from the pics below, he’s literally parked himself in front of the water bowl. At least he’s drinking….He’s not giving up. I feel good about him today.

He’s home now. But, I’m to spend a good 20 minutes, twice a day, administering pills, powders, liquids, and sticking him with a needle to fill him up with a subcutaneous fluid. In the meantime, he’s not eating–’cept sometimes he’ll take his wet food from my hand (ew), and only a few teaspoons.

So, now, I’m supposed to just watch him deteriorate?

There he is, sitting by the kitchen sink again.

It’s like living with Bambi’s mom, Old Yeller, Sounder and Pharlap 24/7. I don’t know if I can take it. I have to be so strong.

This is really hard.

But, I’m so grateful that he’s home and being loved.

I spent most of the weekend (well, as much as the vet would let me) at Simba’s side. The rest of it was spent with family, celebrating the bro’s engagement–which was hard to do with all my nervousness about Ba.

Ba’s made a lot of progress: he went from totally refusing food, to eating cookies out of my hand when I went to see him this evening….He’s coming home tomorrow after the vet does some more tests. So, we’ll have more time together. The vet doesn’t know how long Ba has–could be months, could be a few years…. But, at least he’ll be coming home, and I can love him to bits every day before he has to leave me.

So, Happy Mother’s Day it is, after all!

Speaking of Mother’s Day….Josh got me the SIRIUS RADIO SATELLITE THINGY! It’s arriving this week. Howard, here I come! Finally! I’ve missed him so….Anyway, the Monkey got me magazines and a Cash For Life lottery ticket that I have yet to scratch. My parents got me Rachael Ray’s 365: No Repeats: a Year of Deliciously Different Dinnerscookbook! I really don’t like Ray on her TV shows, but she is talented, and the cookbook looks great! My goal is to cook one recipe from it a day–in order (I’ll change the meat recipes to chicken, etc.). I’ll let you know how that goes.

Also from the Monkey….
We had a brunch this morning for the bro’s engagement. First, Josh spilled an entire glass of orange juice all over the place–on me, on the Monkey, etc.. I quickly grabbed the Monkey–rescued her from complete saturation. I put her on my lap, and, SPLAT, she stuck her whole hand in a bowl of syrup and, ACK, slapped her sticky syrupy hand on my shoulder so that she could get her other hand in the bowl, which she managed to do….WHAT A MESS! Usually, I can easily laugh at these things…today, it took some effort and a lot of soda water….

From me to Josh….
There was a bug on my strawberry at brunch today….I showed everyone, of course. And, then I showed Josh. He took the strawberry from me, I thought, to look at it. I turned away for a second, and, when I looked back at him, the strawberry was gone! IT WAS IN HIS MOUTH!!!! Oops! He had thought I was giving it to him to eat! He hadn’t realized I was showing him a bug on it….

Thanks, friends, for supporting me in this waiting period for my Ba….

My Simba’s really sick. Not just a little sick. I’m waiting to hear from the vet. He’s lost 2 pounds, is severely dehydrated and will only drink from the sink. (And, he tipped over a plant to get its water, smashing the vase it was in and everything–I feel terrible for getting mad at him….) He did nothing yesterday but sit beside his water bowl–refusing to drink from it. He won’t eat, won’t even sleep.

I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him now. He’s only 11, and he’s been the best pet I’ve ever had. My Ba massages my back (yes, really!), he gives hugs, he gets moody like I do….He’s very jealous when I give the other cats (namely Minden) any attention. He has a sweet, high-pitched wimpy meow–so odd for such a bully of a guy….He’s the most emotionally complex animal I’ve ever known. I don’t know what I’ll do if….

He’s now at the vet on an IV. I’m waiting for the results of the blood work. The vet says he may have kidney failure. If he does, we can still give him a few more years….It’s possible. I can’t believe it might come to this. My fingers are crossed that it’s something less serious. I love him too much to lose him now. He’s my soul mate kitty. Minden’s my baby kitty; and Ba’s my soul mate kitty. That’s what I’ve always felt….We connect at a very deep level–he’s absolutely irreplaceable.

Here are some pictures of him drinking from the sink.

He hates being wet, and yet….

Too bizarre to be funny….

Even his tiny paws are soaked….

He won’t even eat his favourite cookies….

Here’s Tigger trying to get Simba’s cookies, and Minden (who’s UTI is totally better now–what a week!) lounging….

Get well, my sweet heart….Know that I love you, miss you and am thinking of you.

MARGE!!!
Simba in the sun….
Close up on Simba….
Minden trying to steal the basket from Tigger…
Tigger unhappy because Minden’s trying to steal the basket….
Tigger leaving the basket….

Sigh, these cats deserve some recognition. Poor things were my world before the Monkey arrived. They’ve been awesome. People are wrong about the incompatibility of cats and babies. Three of them are too scared to go near her. And, one of them (Minden, of course)loves to play with the Cheaty Monkey and is brave enough to endure being bitten and having his hair pulled by her.

Speaking of CM…she did not sleep a wink all day today. How am I feeling right now? As great as Tigger felt with Minden on top of her in the basket: frustrated, helpless, and in search of a bed.