September 27th, 2005
Martha was buried today under an oak tree planted by my father 20 years ago. We took turns digging the grave, Dad, mhaille (who'd driven me out to the Valley) and myself. By the way, Cockney accents don't work for gravediggers unless they're wearing dishevelved top hats and shawls. I gave the little cat one last scritch goodbye, wrapped her in a towel, put the towel bundle in the grave and shoveled the dirt back on.
After patting the dirt back down Dad said a few words and then, in true Protestant fashion, we went back inside for coffee.
This, then, is the end of the chapter. There's a blank page before the start of the next chapter, which is often what happens in certain stories.
Good night, little Martha. Now your job is to help that tree grow, and to be lots of happy memories for everyone who knew you.
|Date:||September 27th, 2005 07:22 am (UTC)|| |
Seeing how loved and popular Martha was, I am glad to have played a small part in the tale that was her life. Rest now, little pirate, and go to join the ones who have gone before. Find my beloved Winston, for I am sure he will have found out where the best catnip socks grow...
I still can't read these entries without getting a teeny, tiny lump in my throat. I feel quite pathetic (and I think I mean that in the original sense).
I have never mourned someone I never met quite so much.
I'm teary-eyed again. Goodbye sweet pretty Martha. I'm glad I had the chance to meet you. You're somewhere with my darling Jimmycat now. I hope it's a beautiful place.
|Date:||September 27th, 2005 01:28 pm (UTC)|| |
I tell ya, I can't even fathom what that's like. I'd be bawling at that point, I tell ya, as I still get a lil' choked up readin' about it..
Farewell, Martha.. may the next life be filled with sunbeams and warm laps..
Rest in Peace, pirate cat.
|Date:||September 27th, 2005 07:46 pm (UTC)|| |
Rest in peace Martha. May you go to a good place of your choosing.