(Click here to see that clip from the movie, but please come back to the blog afterwards, okay?)
I fell down the stairs yesterday.
It's not as bad as it sounds.
Well, maybe it's actually worse than it sounds.
My little cat Jinx is
In the words of our very good, but not-exactly-a-people-person vet, "he's living on borrowed time."
Jinxy has been a good little cat all these years (11 1/2), or let's say 11 and 1/3.
I did not name him after the cat from "Meet the Parents." I named him after a bartender I knew in Durham, North Carolina, named Jenks. The best story I remember about Jenks is this : It was Christmas Eve, 1983. I took the shift at the bar (why not?) and Jenks was there having his usual...a vodka and coffee. (Redbull had not been invented yet.) The crowd had died out, it was the regulars and the staff... We were playing the music loud. Suddenly Jenks jumps up and grabs the Christmas garland, drapes it over his shoulders like a feather boa and before I know what's happening : Jenks is strutting his stuff and singing his heart out to "Santa Baby" dancing on my nice clean bar top. It's been one of my favorite Christmas songs ever since!
Where was I? Oh, Jinxy.
The last month or so he's been getting a bit yucky, as animals do when they are reaching the pre-death stage of decrepitude. I think this helps making the good-bye a little easier. I don't mean to sound so callous, but to put it right out there, Jinx has been completely missing the cat box for about 2 months now. He smells terrible. I could go on, but I think you get the idea already and I'm bumming myself out.
So I've been doing my best to clean up after him BEFORE stepping in his messes, and trying to remember the good times, but he's taken a bad turn. As of now, he's still drinking water, and eating very expensive, special, canned, gooey, stinky food, into which I have to mash a pill, and stir it with a spoon. (Of course it has to be me.)
When I got home from work last night, after a very long day, I mixed up this revolting concoction and brought it downstairs, to the cozy little spot he's chosen to spend his remaining days. But I missed a step on the wood stairs and slipped down five stairs on my back. Getting his foul-smelling brown slop all over my linen pants and wool sweater. Landing hard on my butt and wrist onto the tile. AND, right into the cat's random poop, which was several feet away from the catbox, as usual.
I did not curse. There is no singular curse that exists for OUCH-YUCK-SHIT-WOW, REALLY OUCH-GROSS-UGHCH-. and besides, my young, niece was upstairs, and she's a high school junior. I didn't want to shock or offend her innocent ears.
So I picked myself up, and gave the cat what was left in the bowl. I pet him and tried to show him a little love, and cleaned myself off. I changed my clothes and took an Advil with a healthy swallow of a Seabreeze. I went in to tell my husband what happened, and he had no clue at all that I had fallen down the stairs, and, in fact, forgot that Jinx was sick.
I hobbled to the couch and put on the tv. An infomercial was advertising Carol Burnett's DVD. And I thought about how comical this story could seem, telling this story in a few years. Okay, days. Okay, so I'm telling it now. Because sometimes you just have to laugh. Because sitting there, despite my already aching back, sore wrist and smelling like cat food, I remembered that my life doesn't suck. My kids are healthy, so are my parents. I remembered that the reason my niece was hanging out here is because her other grandmother (my sister-in-law's mom) just had a stroke, and my brother and sister-in-law had to rush up to New Hampshire to be with her. She's doing much better as I type this, but that's the big stuff, and we can pull together as a family to do whatever they need us to do.
So I've been doing my best to clean up after him BEFORE stepping in his messes, and trying to remember the good times, but he's taken a bad turn. As of now, he's still drinking water, and eating very expensive, special, canned, gooey, stinky food, into which I have to mash a pill, and stir it with a spoon. (Of course it has to be me.)
When I got home from work last night, after a very long day, I mixed up this revolting concoction and brought it downstairs, to the cozy little spot he's chosen to spend his remaining days. But I missed a step on the wood stairs and slipped down five stairs on my back. Getting his foul-smelling brown slop all over my linen pants and wool sweater. Landing hard on my butt and wrist onto the tile. AND, right into the cat's random poop, which was several feet away from the catbox, as usual.
I did not curse. There is no singular curse that exists for OUCH-YUCK-SHIT-WOW, REALLY OUCH-GROSS-UGHCH-. and besides, my young, niece was upstairs, and she's a high school junior. I didn't want to shock or offend her innocent ears.
So I picked myself up, and gave the cat what was left in the bowl. I pet him and tried to show him a little love, and cleaned myself off. I changed my clothes and took an Advil with a healthy swallow of a Seabreeze. I went in to tell my husband what happened, and he had no clue at all that I had fallen down the stairs, and, in fact, forgot that Jinx was sick.
 |
| Jinx, in September of 2013 |
I hobbled to the couch and put on the tv. An infomercial was advertising Carol Burnett's DVD. And I thought about how comical this story could seem, telling this story in a few years. Okay, days. Okay, so I'm telling it now. Because sometimes you just have to laugh. Because sitting there, despite my already aching back, sore wrist and smelling like cat food, I remembered that my life doesn't suck. My kids are healthy, so are my parents. I remembered that the reason my niece was hanging out here is because her other grandmother (my sister-in-law's mom) just had a stroke, and my brother and sister-in-law had to rush up to New Hampshire to be with her. She's doing much better as I type this, but that's the big stuff, and we can pull together as a family to do whatever they need us to do.
We have a roof over our heads and food on the table.
I have to get to work, but I thought you'd enjoy that little glimpse into a moment in my life. For a look into the lives of two people who right now are living extraordinary lives, I am sharing the links to two blogs I've been following. Both will make you feel grateful for what you have, and both will might even make you want to do more for others. At this time of Thanksgiving, I hope you find them meaningful, as I do.
I started both of these stories from the middle, and worked backwards and then forwards. The are both compelling and both made me cry. They are both a lot bigger than losing a beloved cat and falling down the stairs. I thank both of these sincere brave women for sharing their personal stories with the world and putting it all out there.
Click here to read about Rabbi Phyllis' story about her son Superman Sam's battle with Cancer
Click here to read about Rabbi Tziona's journey to become a parent.
Stay in touch people. We all need each other. When we see each other remember to hug. (I promise I don't still smell like catfood.)
Update: 12/17/13 : Jinx is alive and darting around the house. He's on life #6 or #7 I guess. My bruised derriere is mended, my sister-in-law's mother is doing very well, and life goes on.
Update: 1/10/14
Jinx died in his sleep last night. He was a good little cat, and I'm much sadder than I thought I'd be.
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