Wednesday, August 23, 2006

A Gosh-Given Right Not to Explain, Even to Obfuscate

I’ve been reading online about having a pet die. One woman wrote that the moment their vet performed the lethal injection while she and her husband comforted their dog and tried not to upset their pet by becoming distraught was the moment they became worthy of their dog’s trust in them. That’s a nice way to look at it.

They’ll probably be able to hear me wailing clear down the block, Thelonious will be in a panic, Dr. Press will have to slap me. I’ll try not to do that.

One person told a terrible story of someone deliberately running down and killing her cat because her cat was black and it was Friday the 13th. Indeed, many of the adoptable cats at the SPCA are black.

I myself used to think grey or orange cats were cuter than black cats, but now I know that the best cats are black cats. Maybe from now on I will have only black cats, though I know that one day they will become one big blur in my mind (since right now fifty percent of everything I know is one big blur in my mind).

Another sad story was of someone’s little grey cat sitting by the side of the road waiting for her to come home and getting killed by a car.

As for getting another pet, some people rush out and do it right away and some can’t bear to for a time. Some swear off having another pet at all, though, as someone said, maybe the best tribute to a departed pet is to provide a home for a cat or dog that is sitting in a cage at the shelter. One person said getting two new cats right away gave her something to do besides feel sad.

In regard to the departed cat’s stuff, some people let a new pet use and enjoy it, while others retire it. Thelonious has lots of stuff, including five stuffed animals, a treasured piece of burlap about seven inches square (I guess that’s her tiny special blanket), several green earplugs, ping pong balls, and, the thing she went out and brought back on her own from the trash area, a wine bottle cork.

One thing I have to think about is when to have the fight with my building manager about getting another cat. Since I moved in, cats have been disallowed and only two units have cats, mine and hers. Fortunately, my lease says I can have a cat. To be on the safe side, I went to the San Francisco Tenants Union and had them verify this.

For all I know, Thelonious may hang on for months, and then I may not want to get another cat right away, anyway, in which case I can wait until the time comes, and notify the building manager as a courtesy (and also so she’ll recognize my new cat if she sees it in the hall, though, come to think of it, it might look much like Thelonious to the indifferent eye). Then she can tell me that cats aren’t allowed and I can tell her it’s in my lease and she can tell me it doesn’t make any difference, it’s the landlord’s rule, and so forth.

But another possible scenario is that Thelonious will be gone very soon and I will want to get another cat right away. (That sounds very casual, but I am by no means reconciled to her going. If it sounds at some given moment as if I think it might be bearable to lose her, it means I don’t really think it’s going to happen.)

I remember some 12-Step thing that said something like, “Try to hang in there and maybe tomorrow you’ll have more denial.”

I won’t want to be fighting with the building manager while I’m freshly bereaved, so maybe it would be prudent just to send her a note now and get it over with. On the other hand, that might be borrowing trouble.

I guess I won’t have the New Cat Fight today.

I think I mentioned the weird interaction I had with the woman from my 12 Step meeting, after which I decided not to pursue a friendship with her, on the theory that having an issue before we’ve even hung out once is not a good sign.

So when I see her, I say hello and leave it at that, and I didn’t return her last phone call weeks ago, so I figured that was that and was therefore displeased to receive a nearly three-minute message on my answering machine yesterday alerting me to the fact that she’s open to a deeper connection. I called the police right away and told them I have a stalker and to send help.

She said she assumes from my actions that I’m happy with the status quo, but if there is a possibility of something more, I should let her know, and if she doesn’t hear anything, she’ll assume I’m not interested. She will not hear from me (though I imagine it will be extra-awkward the next time I see her).

I have been in her shoes, and it isn’t fun, but in the end, everyone has the right to choose his or her companions, and the right to explain or not.

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