Be One With The Milk My Friend

My mother, for the most part, indulged me as a child in the sort of things that mothers indulge children in.

Like in pets.

Whether it be having to get two hamsters for my brother and I who couldn’t share, or replacing the goldfish we had won at the bazaar the night before with one that would live longer than 12 hours, or in turning the other way when I rolled a 6 foot boa in on a stretcher… my mother indulged me.

19+ years ago she indulged me by helping me climb over the backyard fence to retrieve a kitten from the overgrowth it had been trapped in.  She then indulged my brother and I by taking that kitten to the vet, dropping $300 she didn’t have on medicine for the eye infection, upper respiratory infection, and the worms the kitten had.  She then indulged us by allowing us to name this new addition to the family, because once you drop $300 on a cat you’re going to get your money out of it in purrs.

We named him Kit Kat.  He became both a jockey and a companion for our dog Pepper, and also became a big brother for the kitten Oreo I got from the front yard of a friend on the day Pepper went to sleep.  When Oreo moved on, he then became both the older statesman as well as an object of sexual desire for Coco and Soco.

Kit With The Bloo Eyes

Kit passed away sometime early yesterday morning… in the bathtub.  He had lost ALOT of weight over the last year or two, not unlike Oreo, and he appeared to be losing his fur in some spots.  We were better prepared for his journey to the bowl of everlasting milk… and tomorrow my brother will probably come home from his weekend in Atlantic City to bury him in the backyard with the 13 goldfish, 7 parakeets, 97 hamsters, Kira my boa, and Oreo.

Of course… in my head I like to think that he is in the corner of the kitchen… drinking from the Bowl of Everlasting Milk with Oreo and Metro… while the parakeets chirp… the hamsters make fun of Kira… and the sound of my grandmother sizzling German pancakes on the stove while DJ passes the time waiting for them at the table by playing with his utensils.

In other words… heaven.

posted by NYC Watchdog at Sunday - 09.27.09 @ 12:01 AM
categories:   It's All About Me

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