A week or so back, I thought of him and.. . the tears started again. It will be a long time before that emotion is quite gone, if ever.
All the same. After I had taken him to the vet’s for the last time, I wandered into town and had a coffee at a local café (Cinnamon, if there’s anyone from the Deepings reading this). I passed an odd hour there since, apart from being very very upset, I also bumped into a lady from church who I’d never much spoken with before and.. . we chatted and it helped a little.
OK. So far, so maudlin.
Today, at the hairdresser (pay attention at the back!) Kris, my regular stylist, was just starting to dry me off when a woman tapped me on the shoulder. Huh? But to cut a long story short: it was the café owner, checking to see if it was me and how was i.
Fine, sort of, I said, given the circumstances I’d last met her in – and seeing as how on that occasion I’d just taken my cat to the vet to have him put down.
Oh, well, she said brightly: so how is he now?
Er, he’s dead.
Eeek! Realisation set in about then as to what she’d just said. I should probably have been offended or upset (though I wasn’t either). Instead, we all of us just burst out laughing: Kris worst of all.
Cinnamon lady was, I think, quite mortified as to what she’d just asked: and relieved that I wasn’t upset. Kris was quite incapable of cutting anything for a couple of minutes. Ever so slightly worrying, as every time she approached my head with a pair of scissors she burst out laughing again.
And I laughed. I still miss him. Of course I do! But I’m glad that I can at least broach the subject now without tears.