Caesar <3

Oh Caesar. I miss you so much, my furry friend. I’ll never forget the time you were lost and I swear you psychically sent a message to my brain and then I knew where to find you. I found you locked in the drawer, which had accidentally gotten shut with you inside — you always loved to find new places to sleep, especially smushed together with your sister and even one day with Pipa AND Fleet! Seeing all three of you snuggled together made my heart happy.

A little walking pillow, my teddy cat, my friend. Never judging me, always full of love and peace and head butts. You always knew when to reach out your paw and I’d feel the tiny nails knead - as if to say — “it’s okay”.

You’d hear the clicking sound of my tongue and you’d run so you could have the first bedtime snuggle - you’re little belly swaying from side-to-side — then you would hop on the bed and settle in for a “cheek to cheek” snuggle. Your little cheek next to mine, but you would always rotate and do the same for Brendan. You had these all-knowing eyes that reminded me of passing time. You were so brave and strong(!) — I still do not know how you could push your way through the door when we would go to the roof and I’d find you at the bottom of the stairwell.

I’ve cried more tears over you than any boy and you were always there, letting me know who you would allow to be part of your family. In some ways, you chose Brendan too. <3

When you were younger, you loved the sky ladders that Hayden made for you — even though the platforms were too small. You liked to climb to the top of the room and observe. In Brooklyn, you started your evening cuddles with Hayden, but would always find your way to me. You would also wake up any house guest we had with your loud purrs and kneading paws and attended every party. I miss those days.

Right before moving, we experienced a true miracle. You must have fallen from the sky bed or something because you couldn’t walk right or use the litter. The vet said we needed “a miracle” and suggested we try reiki from his friend. So we drove through Brooklyn to Merrill, who will always be in our hearts and is now a fur-ever friend. With her one cat eye (yes! truly!), she healed you. You used the litter immediately afterwards which Diane observed in her New York accent and we laughed and cried and hope began again. I was still so sad to leave the city and cried tears of joy for you and sadness for leaving.

I became a true cat lady (or nut) when I started expressing your bladder daily and driving you up Hoosick for enemas every week and even to Niskayuna for some acupuncture appointments. I had a calendar where I tracked your “progress” and you survived, eventually being able to do everything on your own again. Truly, a miracle.

We enjoyed so much time together, until earlier this year when you started having issues again and we ended up driving through the night back to Brooklyn (to our beloved, vet and friend) to save you — which he did. Merrill even came by to say hello. Sometime during that week, you and Fleet became “vet buddies”.

We’ve been through so much together, but this time I couldn’t save you. Looking back, I remember complaining about the heat (in all the ways) of June and you ran to me — almost urgently, head butting and demanding snuggles — as if you had seen the kitty grim reaper. After that you started hiding and I missed our “family snuggle” time, but I didn’t think too much of it because of the heat. Until I did and so I tried again, but it was different this time and I think somehow I just knew, no matter how hard I tried to ignore it. I tried finding comfort in my “planning mind”, thinking of appointments and giving you subcutaneous injections and even imagining how I would tell people the news — oh the ways we distract ourselves, but sometimes it just hurts too much.

I thought I could revive you by giving you a will to live. We had a lovely evening at the farm and you met the sheep and we even found a clover together. I was hopeful in thinking that finding the clover would mean we’d have forever, but after that night we only had a few more days together.

I’ll always feel a little uncertain about it all. It happened so quick and the actual thing of it was terrible because I couldn’t hold you in my arms like Diane said I should, but Brendan said you were held by the Earth. On our way to bury you, I found a five-leaf clover.

I lost a little piece of my heart that day, deep in the clay soil of the open fields. Brendan and I held each other in the heat, weeping. That was the first time I’ve seen him cry. The wind made me think of you, maybe he’s still doing ‘cheek to cheek’. Then we saw a single red-wing black bird flying above us and Brendan said maybe you were a bird. There was something really special about that moment, maybe it was the intense heat after digging a very deep hole, but there we grew closer in that shared vulnerability, pulling purple vetch and wild daisies and emptying seed packets for you, laughing at the random choices we left - cantaloupe, pumpkins and wildflowers. The soil is so hard, it’s doubtful any will survive, but perhaps they will become snacks for the birds. Laughing, crying, digging my hands into the soil, falling into the earth in heat, exhaustion and sadness.

We saw a monarch on our walk back to the car and I was inconsolable, so much so that the only thing I could do for the rest of the afternoon was order a pizza and watch Netflix. Pipa and Fleet sat back-to-back and the whole apartment felt a little lost and dark like the show — perhaps you’ve now entered a timeloop.

I told Brendan about the “rainbow bridge”, my struggles with loss and my deep wish for signs to speak with those who left. Later, Katy sent a photo of Hayden under a rainbow after the skies opened in Brooklyn and Brendan brought me the calendar for July 11/12 and it was a rainbow from the “beaches” calendar that we found on the street that frenzied trip to NYC to save you in the winter.

They say water is healing. Last night was special. We went to the river and honestly it wasn’t until I was home and showering that I realized HOW special it was (because you loved water so much, often I’d brush my teeth while you got a drink from the fountain [bad for the environment, I know, but I could never say no to your little meows]).

We were at the river and I placed stones in the shape of your little face as the sun was setting. The clouds were reflecting the wind was moving the water gently. It looked like a painting. As I was taking photos, a tiny little flower started floating on top of the water out of nowhere. Sure, it could have come from the riverbank, but I like to think it was a sign from you.

I’m a person that often looks for signs — counting clover petals, seeing red birds, rainbows… anything, everything.

Honestly, life is hard, so it helps me to make a little puzzle and create some meaning, even if it is just in my own heart.

Who knows what really happens when we die. I like to think that we become everything and are everywhere, but really I have no idea. And that’s okay.

I will miss you forever, my little Caesar cat. My friend, my familiar.

our final farm visit. <3 | RIP Caesar J. Bobeezer 7.11.20