It’s too late to slice It’s too late There’s no time to tell you even a seed of a moment
I was going to tell you about the girl who exclaimed, You have an UNO lunchbox? and I had to dissapoint her by showing her that no, it was just a lunchbox that says POW! She had been so excited And now I want an UNO lunchbox
Oh – and there were the boys lined up perpendicular to the recess door like a race starting line a few minutes before the whistle blew jut waiting What time is it? they yelled after I asked them why they didn’t want to enjoy the last few minutes of recess It was 1:59
But it’s too late now Too late even for those mini moments
I can’t write about how I was going to go to bed early but my to do list said Nope Nope Nope Double Nope
And now my dog is curled on the couch squeezing me in and there’s no time to tell you even a bit about his wrinkly neck
Today My dog, Finnegan wanted to stop and sniff More snow I was running late and I told him again that we needed to go home I tugged I won we went but my heart broke a little for Finnegan even though my tug was gentle
I re-realized, a truth I am not made for this sort of stuff This having a dog stuff
I realize re-realized isn’t a real word but one I’ve real-ized because I re-realize too often — this empathy problem
Wouldn’t it be cool if I could syphon off just a bit of my empathy? Give it to other people in need? When the screen comes up at the grocery store, instead of asking me to round up for charity, it could say Would you care to offload some of your empathy?
I’d totally do it So that Every day at school When kids are Hurt Or even Gently tugged Or God, when they are Misunderstood In trouble I wouldn’t have to re-realize a truth I am not made for this sort of stuff this teaching stuff
I think about a conversation I overheard months ago between two first-graders on the back of the rug
Wanna come to my house after school?
No.
(Pause Head Down)
Can we go to your house?
No.
Heartbreaking.
One day a few months ago, I was driving to one meeting or another trying to convince myself to let it go to not care about an issue that had been getting me riled up and then I re-realized that I work with real kids and their real teachers so instead of letting it go I cried the whole way to my meeting
This is not an interview I’m not trying to bamboozle you My greatest weakness? Oh, I care too much.
I’m just saying I’m not made for this sort of stuff I do care too much.
Our eyes still sting from crying and once someone told me to tell stories from scars not fresh wounds like this
My son keeps thinking the shoes in the middle of the floor are the cat we just put down 7 hours ago
Although –
I still think I see Theodore who died 7 weeks ago every time I walk into my room and see the cats’ water fountain out of the corner of my eye
Oh. Wait. That’s the cat’s water singular
One cat now down from 3
This is a fresh wound
The vet said the last thing to stop is the heart
I found myself repeating that in my brain over and over as she put her stethoscope to my not-even-two-year-old cat’s chest
The last thing to stop is the heart
After she left me there to say goodbye to him to Clyde that’s his name, I’d like you to remember him with his name Clyde Clyde-o Pinky Toe Stinky man
After she left me to say goodbye to Clyde I repeated it again
The last thing to stop is the heart
And I took out my phone and typed that in my notes
It was it’s own poem
And I know from experience unfortunately That writing from fresh wounds helps them scar
The last thing to stop is the heart before that, his breathing stopped that was quick but before that it took him extra shots to settle down before his hissing stopped and his growls when I pet him before that he let me scratch the top of his head and stroke his mitten paws before that he let me hold him
Dying is stopping I know this
stop peeing playing eating hissing growling breathing and then the last thing to stop is the heart
I’m still thinking about the pregnant woman at the dog park
She’s due in 2 months Her dog has 2 months to live
She had been expecting adorable Golden and baby days And now she will be saying goodbye to her fur baby and hello to her new baby
“We don’t know,” she says, “Would we be crazy to get a new puppy?”
I paused I’m too young to be the old woman looking back like this— advising
“Well, people do it,” I landed on and then quickly added, “but I don’t recommend it”
A father and a toddler brought their husky and he leaned down with his daughter who said, “Dog!” “Dog!” “Dog!” as dogs ran and jumped and played and came by her to say hello “Kiss!” she said when my dog sniffed her cheek I apologized of course ”It’s okay,” her dad said, ”I’m here and we’re just setting our own boundaries We’re okay”
Later he let his daughter roam a few steps ahead of him she pointed at each dog ”Friend!” and wanted to share their toys
“Do you miss that age?” The pregnant mom asked me
My mind imploded with that thing movies try to show you — flashbacks through your whole life
It’s really an unanswerable question – Do I miss that age?
Yes there is nothing like it I would go back in time if I could to get another snuggle filled day middle of the night feeding walk with my two-year old’s hand in mine a baby in my lap talking to me, nose to nose
Of course it was exhausting a decade of sleep deprivation touched out days so much taking care of all the little people
And now there’s magic in older kids — hilarious smart independent older kids
Do I miss that age?
I finally answered “Yes. It is the cutest time with all the words”
“So cute,” she said
“And hard!” I added and we talk about the middle of the night feedings all the rocking I tell her about how after I read something about moms all over the world up feeding and rocking in the middle of the night, I never felt quite as stressed about it I wasn’t alone
I laughed to this soon-to-be-mom, “Now I’m the old woman with advice again… It will go so fast Enjoy those baby snuggles Sleep when the baby sleeps!”
I wonder if she was sad I think she must have been as she watched the the toddler point at the dogs
Her dog will be gone long before her baby has a chance to say “Dog!” ”Kiss!” “Friend!”
There’s a video of Theodore that I can’t stop watching. He’s on his back, on my lap, purring.
It’s the purr the reach of his paw the pink of his nose his eyes staring at me
It’s his back legs resting on a pillow
He was sick on Saturday. He died on Sunday.
My youngest keeps saying “He was just so young.”
Before I took him to the emergency vet, I had to look up his birthday. I couldn’t remember which year we adopted him.
Born in 2017 Home in 2018 Died in 2023
He was just so young.
For the first couple of years he and his sister Talula had to be isolated away from the dog. Thank goodness we finally got our dog Finn trained, but I can’t stop thinking of those wasted years when he didn’t have the run of the house. I’m sorry, Theodore.
He was the fluffiest cat I’ve ever had. His name was Theodore Hobbes We called him Theo and somehow the kids called him Bearlious and I was known to occasionally call him fluffer-nutter-peanut-butter.
He was the sweetest.
He used to wake up from his nap to check on the other cats and the dog whenever there was a little scuffle. When our newest kitten Clyde got into it with Finn, Theo would shuffle in, usually still groggy. He would walk over to Finn and give him a swat.
He liked to sleep on my head at night, and swat all my things off my nightstand in the early morning.
The vet said his urinary blockage was most likely caused by stress. It could have been his change in routine after Clyde came home from surgery and was isolated in my room for two weeks. (No head sleeping for Theodore.) It could have been something we weren’t even aware of, like a new cat in the neighborhood.
Clyde is our baby cat. He had a urinary blockage problem and needed surgery a few weeks ago. But Theodore? Theodore never had this problem. I don’t understand.
I miss him, and I don’t understand.
Did he try to take care of Clyde by taking Clyde’s health problem? Seems like a crazy question unless you ever met Theodore and watched him take care of his family.
He used to love sitting by the window next to the frontdoor — the one he could just reach — and just stare.
Sometimes you’d walk into a room and he was sitting in front of a mirror just looking at himself.
Usually you’d walk into a room and he was napping.
If you were lucky enough to have him sit on your lap, like I was most mornings, you would have a chance to scritch and scratch his soft, soft fluffy self.
Scratch him in the right spot and he’d lick his front leg. Without fail. Full of party tricks, this one.
Grief is full of wishes. I wish I snuggled him even more. I wish I never got annoyed when he tried to sleep on my head while I was reading in bed. I wish I took him to the vet sooner this past weekend. I wish we had more time with him.
We miss him so much here.
But, I know Theodore is fine wherever he is.
What do I know about cat after-life, but that he’s free of any pain.
I just hope that somehow he is in a lap purring reaching his paws — and that somebody is loving his pink pink nose his pink pink toes and his fluff oh that fluff
I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers
Not to complain, but this morning I reached my hand into a pocket of my backpack , right as I was about to leave the house, and I really shouldn’t have done that. The top to my bright pink lip gloss had gotten off somehow. Magenta gloss dripped off of pens and post-its, and an old mask and mini-notebook. As I tried to wipe things off my cat jumped up and started investigating. Finally, I just decided to put everything into a grocery bag, stuff a paper towel into that pocket and go.
Not to complain, but it was raining on my dog walk this afternoon, and also I wondered why my dog’s poop was green. Then I noticed the lego. So I guess it’s nice that he didn’t complain. But, he really shouldn’t be eating legos.
Not to complain, but there were 4 jelly beans left, until one dropped to the floor and that same dog chased after it and grabbed it before I could even see where it landed.
And that’s just the kind of day – well week this has been.
I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers.
I want to know how my cats know it’s 5:42, and also why they can’t just wait 3 minutes for my alarm to wake me up.
Maybe they know I’ll hit snooze.
But, I can’t snooze Theodore. He’s the fluffiest cat I’ve ever known, and usually the chillest too. But, like clockwork he jumps on my nightstand and starts swatting things off of it to wake me up. It is almost always at 5:42. It’s not really my favorite way to wake up, hearing my books hit the floor. This morning I noticed the spray bottle I had set out to try to stop this situation was also on the floor. Well, that strategy won’t work I guess.
The cats pace around until I get up and then then chase each other down the steps, ready for breakfast. It’s actually super cute, or would be if it weren’t 5:45 in the morning.
If they are this smart, I could probably teach them to press “Brew Now” on my coffee maker.
This morning they were heartbroken. I forgot to set up the coffee maker last night, so before I fed them, I had to get the coffee started. Luckily they get over the sting of betrayal much faster that I do, and they were able to enjoy their breakfast.
Just like every morning, Clyde kept me company while I drank my coffee. Although, I think he was wondering why my hands were busy writing instead of petting him.
Clyde is a busy kitten He runs toys up and down the stairs, Hisses at the dog Chases the other cats.
So you’ll understand why it’s such a gift that he has decided to sit next to me while I write — First to stretch and look cute on the cushion next to mine Then right up against my thigh.
He cleans his feet – six toes splayed out Licks his belly He lets me scratch his soft soft head But tries to kill my hand when I rub his belly
Sleeping on my other side, not noticing Clyde- The dog is clueless But, the battle is imminent
On a Thought 