Brother Jon Nailed It...

Mrs. B and Her Boys 1993

...when he observed, in reference to my post "Labor of Love", the following:

"Going from 2 to 1 to 0 kitties is tough. Assembling Clyde's album has to be difficult since that chapter of your life is complete".

There is so much truth to this, on some many different levels.

I still miss Nigel, of course I still miss Clyde, and I always will miss them. Even though I had them each for a period of time without having the other, they will always be TOGETHER in my mind; NIGEL AND CLYDE.

The thing is, between when I got Nigel (mid March 1991) and when Clyde passed away (end of February 2008), just short of 17 years had elapsed. Think about that; almost two decades. And, during that time, the three of us went through a lot together; "to hell and back", and, there were moments when I truly felt all I really had going for me were Nigel and Clyde. Certainly, they kept me sane.

So, to put it into perspective, here's some food for thought relative to how long I had Nigel and/or Clyde:

• Longer than my first marriage lasted
• ALMOST as long as Mr. B's first marriage lasted
• Longer than we've had one or another George Bush in office
• Longer than my entire career at TRW
• Longer than The Kid has been alive

Mrs. B

Labor of Love

It's been two months today (already) since Clyde passed away. Really, it is hard to believe that as much time has passed as it has.

Like I did when Nigel died, I wanted to put together a "Clyde Album" made up of pictures, captions, memories, and other items celebrating Clyde's life. Today, I finally started the "writing" aspect of it; the toughest, of course, because it will bring out a lot of emotions as I do so. But, really, that IS part of my objective; part of MY grieving and healing process.

Up to now, I'd bought the album, compiled the pictures (no mean task, considering we're talking 15 1/2 years of pictures pulled from a variety of sources) and started putting the pictures into the album. Frankly, I was feeling a bit guilty, because, by the time Nigel had been gone for two months, his album was nearly finished; here, I've barely started with Clyde's!

So, I sort of wondered if this was like how new parents typically spend a lot of time and effort on baby books and the like for their first child, but, by the time the second one comes along, well, maybe there are some pictures in a drawer somewhere! So, because Nigel was the first of the two and the first to go, I was more committed to doing his album?

But, as with parents, this isn't the case at all. Life is different this go-around; I wasn't home a good portion of the past two months, for one thing. Also, as I told Mr. B, I think I was purposefully holding off on doing this because I knew it was going to make me sad and I didn't want to feel sad.

I'm ready now; not to feel sad, especially, but, to celebrate Clyde's life by walking down memory lane with him. It might take me a bit longer than it did with Nigel's album, but, the end result won't be any less thoughtful or any less a labor of love.

Once I got going today, I managed to do quite a few pictures/captions. Here is what will go into the album as the first Clyde memory:

Clyde Memory: Bringing Clyde Home
October 31, 1992

For some time, the ex and I had contemplated getting Nigel a little brother for a friend and companion. There was never any doubt that the new kitty would be a boy, and, having never had a grey cat in my life, I decided I really, really wanted a grey cat. So, knowing that we’d ultimately bring a new kitty home for Nigel (and us!) we were content to wait for the right one. The right kitty presented himself to us on Halloween Day 1992. I was in the local pet store buying some things for Nigel. I happened to look up on the “advertisement” wall and saw an ad that said something like this, “6 kittens, all male, 5 yellow, 1 grey, free to good home”. Well, to me, this seemed to be “the sign”! So, when I got home, I talked to the ex and he agreed we should go check out the grey kitty. We called the number and were told all of the kittens were still available and, yes, please come on over!

We did. And, I must say, that entire experience was like something out of a weird movie. The woman (and husband) had a nice house near where we lived. Inside, though, were so many cats roaming around that I lost count. And, ugh, the place smelled like you wouldn’t believe; there were piles of cat barf all over the place, plates of empty or half-empty cat food, cans of opened cat food, etc. Frankly, it was just plain disgusting. The ex and I exchanged glances as we were not sure if we wanted any sort of creature from this environment! But, we figured that we’d come this far, may as well check out the grey kitty. The (somewhat strange) woman told us he was out in the garage with his brothers. So, we all trooped out to the garage where we immediately saw the five yellow cats in various locations around the garage; on top of a car, up on a freezer, etc. As we waited for the woman to locate the grey kitten (he was nowhere to be seen), we wandered around the garage looking at his brothers. I must say, they all looked exactly alike and they were none-too-friendly, either. At least two of them took swipes at us with their paws as we walked past. So, again, we were not sure how this was all going to turn out, we certainly didn’t want a feral cat. The woman, who by this time had finally located the grey kitten (hiding under the car, of course!) stood up and apologized for the other cats’ behavior saying, “They aren’t too nice, they are sort of wild, but, this one” as she held him out to me, “Well, he’s really sweet. I call him my Grey Baby”. I took him in my arms and, of course, knew from that second that this little guy was going to go home with us. I remember that he looked up at me; his eyes locked on mine, and he started to purr that fantastic rumbling loud purr of his. The ex looked him over and agreed that he was a keeper. So, the woman told us she’d give him a flea dip and bath for us if we wouldn’t mind waiting. She took “Grey Baby” back and we went into the house. While we sat there watching her bathe him, her husband came into the house. He was a nasty piece of work, I’ll tell you; he grumbled something about being glad to get rid of one of those “damn” cats. I am pretty sure that this mean character was THE reason why our new kitty was so fearful for so long about anything coming near his head. The woman told us that the kittens’ mother, a stray, had them on their porch and, not too long afterward, disappeared. I guess she recognized a house that was “cat-friendly” (to a degree, anyway). Later, this explained why our new kitty had this odd habit for awhile of sucking on the back of my hand (weaned FAR too soon); in fact, the woman said she’d had to feed several of the kittens with an eye-dropper. While cleaning “Grey Baby”, the woman was cooing to him, cuddling him; in general, looking like she didn’t want to give him up. She started fretting that it was Halloween (and perhaps we were going to take him and sacrifice him, I guess!) In any event, the ex wasn’t taking any changes; he snatched him up mid-towel rub, shoved him into my arms, said, “Thanks a lot!” to the woman and started pushing me out the door. I felt sorry for her; she looked so sad! She asked me if I would call her in a few days to let her know how her “Grey Baby” was doing and I said I would. And, I did; and when I did, I told her his new name was Clyde.

To see the rest, you'll just have to come on over and check it out...whenever I manage to get it finished!

Mrs. B

Messages Received Via Special Delivery

Last year, I remember reading an article in The Wall Street Journal about an organization of people that believed loved ones who have passed on continue to send messages, most often, through our dreams. Whether this is true or not is beside the point since the belief is what is important to them, as well as the messages they are receiving. Perhaps the messages are simple greetings, or expressions of love; maybe they hold answers to long-sought questions or to a dilemma the individual is grappling with. In any case, I found the concept (and the fact that there is an organization supporting it) fascinating.

Frankly, I believe it; and, I believe it extends to the animals waiting for us at "The Rainbow Bridge", too.

I also think it isn't necessarily just images in dreams, but, things found all of a sudden during the course of a day. Say, for example, an old chewed up cat-toy mouse found in the bottom of a box of Christmas decorations. "Hi, Nigel, good to hear from you!" is what I thought when I found this last December! Nigel always did love climbing in and out of all of the boxes during decorating time.

The night before Clyde died, I had a dream where I very clearly and deliberately picked him up, cuddled him, petted him and kissed the top of his head. Although at that time he was still alive, I woke up knowing in my heart that he had come to say good-bye. So, when Mr. B called me that morning to tell me he was taking him to the vet, although sad, I wasn't surprised.

It was still rough, of course, especially the few hours of waiting in between Mr. B's first call and when he planned on calling me from the vet. I was out of sorts and restless; and, sitting in mom and dad's RV, all of a sudden felt extremely closed in and almost claustrophobic. I told my mom I was going to go out for a walk. Knowing I needed to be alone, she let me go.

Let me back-track here a second because this is important to my story.

One of the things Nigel and I used to do together is "sing". I know, it's silly, but, any of you who have had a pet know we do silly things with them. What was so cool was, Nigel would actually "sing" along, or, interject with a resounding "WANK!" at the appropriate time in the song.

One song we sang quite often was one I made up to the tune of "Daisy" (you know, the one about a bicycle built for two); like this,

"Buggy, Buggy (his nickname) give me your answer, do (WANK!). I'm quite crazy over my Bug-a-Boo (WANK!)...", etc.

I mean, we REALLY sang this a lot together.

So, back to a few weeks ago. I wandered around the park and decided to go up to the bathroom, which was next to a sort of meeting hall/assembly room or something. I went into the Ladies and was crying; coming to gripes with what was going to happen with Clyde. In the hall, there was a group of folks practicing their singing to the resounding bangs of a piano. They went on and on; I stood there sobbing (I guess I was lucky no one else was in there with me).

They finished their song, silence. Then, in the quietness that followed, came the first notes,

"Daisy, Daisy, give me your answer, do..."

Nigel.

Nigel was there in that moment, I know that he was. I know he was telling me he was there, that he'd be there to greet Clyde, and, it would all be OK.

And, it was and is okay. Clyde went peacefully, he's with Nigel now, and we're all doing fine here on Planet Earth.

Yeah, I'm still sad at times. But, with a message like that, I cannot be too sad for too long. And, I'm open to receiving more of them, and, I'm pretty sure that I might hear from one or both of them from time to time; I just have to be paying attention.

So, y'all might be thinking Mrs. B's a tad off her rocker, but, that's jake by me. No one else has to believe it, just so long as I do.

Mrs. B

Remembering That Vets Grieve, Too

Yesterday I decided to write a note to our vet, Chuck and his staff, thanking them for their loving care of Clyde and acknowledging that I know it's hard on them, too, to lose their little patients. I did this when Nigel died, too; it helped me with my own grieving process.

Since Chuck et al had only known Clyde for a brief period of time (and therefore only seen him as an aged and sick little dude), I thought I'd put together a small collage of pictures of Clyde in happier times and include this with my note.

I've already posted one of these on my Blog, here are the others ones I sent.

Clyde as a kitten
Chubby Clyde (and Nigel)

My favorite artistic shot of Clyde

As I said, this is part of MY grieving process; so, I hope y'all don't mind lots of entries about Clyde for a while yet.

Mrs. B

Rain Rain

Notice I didn't add to the title of this entry, "...go away, come again some other day" because, of course, us'uns in this neck of the woods are in desperate need of rain, and a lot of it. We're definitely getting that of late! I read in the paper yesterday that Durham's water supply is up to over 300 days now (considering that a month or so ago it was around 50, this is excellent progress). Of course, and rightfully so, the city officials are reminding all of us that we still must conserve water. In other words, the deluges we've had and delightful ground soakings that have ensued does not mean we can return to taking long hot showers, or, even, a shower every day. We must yet still remember and follow the advice from the little ditty, "If it's yellow, let it mellow. If it's brown, flush it down"!

Fine by me. The B household hasn't really had too much trouble with water conservation. With a reasonable effort, we reduced our consumption about 30%, and that was even when we had company staying with us.

So, the rain. I welcome it for many reasons. The obvious one being our drought. But, it also fits my mood. Not necessarily dreary but not sunny, fresh and cleansing and really, really wet. Like tears.

Also, the fact that it is rainy means it is not sunny outside. It was decidedly sunny outside Thursday afternoon and that was hard on me emotionally because sunny afternoons were Clyde's favorite time of the day. He'd be out and about in the sitting room upstairs, either on his perch soaking up the rays or rolling around on the floor in a sunny patch he'd found. And, sunny afternoons were our time to be together and share a cat-nap. I'd say that we did this 5 out of 7 days per week in 2007 and into 2008.

So, walking up the stairs on Thursday to see all of that sun pouring in, warming up the entire sitting room, and not seeing Our Sweet Pal there basking in it, wrenched my heart a bit.

Clyde in happier times

I know this will pass at some point and I'll welcome the sun again. Probably sooner than later because that's the way it goes.

Clyde rolling in the sun

We move on, but, we never, ever forget.

Mrs. B

Good-Bye To Our Sweet Pal Clyde

The day came as we knew it would; time to say a (temporary) good-bye to Clyde.

As most of you know, Clyde faced a fairly serious uphill battle against cancer. He fought valiantly, but, as unfortunately happens far too often to our loved ones, it was, in the end, too much for our Sweet Pal.

Mark took him in this morning to make the final journey. Although I couldn't be there physically, Mark called me when the time came and I was there on the phone with them both. Clyde went quickly and peacefully while sitting on his dad's lap.

For all of you who knew him, you'll know how much he'll be missed. We loved him dearly.

Probably what helps ease our loss somewhat is the knowledge he is now reunited with his big brother, Nigel.

Thank you for all your love and support.

Love, Amy and Mark

Clyde
August 7, 1992-February 29, 2008
Never Second Best

Beloved Friends

I've been feeling out of sorts all day today and I do know why that is. Two years ago on this day, we had Nigel put to sleep. It's hard to believe it's already been that long since we said good-bye; so many things that have happened since that he hasn't been a part of.

Mark and I both know that Nigel would have absolutely loved (and claimed ownership of) the sunroom in our new house. And, there is no doubt in our minds that he would have also claimed ownership of Lucy. Unfortunately, we'll never see that relationship develop and mature, but, I know they would have been pretty good buddies.

And, of course, I think about how Nigel might have comforted Clyde during his recent illness. Nigel was always the protective older brother and Clyde would have certainly liked to have had Nigel around to "take care" of him.

I won't say that these are fruitless and pointless thoughts; rather, they are simply poingnant wishes of things that can never be.

So, yeah, I've been sad today. I took down Nigel's album, the one I spent months making after he died, and read through it. Lots of tears and a bit of laughter. The pictures that are so hard for me to look at now are the ones of Nigel and Clyde together; certainly because Nigel is gone, but also because of Clyde being ill and me never knowing when he might leave me, too.

There is one picture of them sauntering down a hallway in a hotel in New Mexico. They are both fat and in their prime years. They were walking away from me as I snapped the picture, tails in the air, ears up, ready to explore (together) what was down that hallway.

As I looked at the picture and before I could stop myself, I cried out "Come back! Come back to me!"

I wish that they could; Nigel of course "coming home" and Clyde returning to his old robust fat self. of course, I know that can't happen. What will happen, though, is at some point they will be together again and, as hard as it's going to be, I can feel better knowing Nigel will once again be looking out for his little brother Clyde.

In the meantime, we continue to do what we think is best for Clyde and I continue to miss Nigel every single day of my life.

Here's the poem I wrote for him last year.

Mrs. B

Nigel’s Ears

Every so often
I’ll still find your hair
a whisper of a reminder
that you were once here

Then I close my eyes
blink back tears
and wish I could once again
kiss your silky ears

I keep the towel you died upon
tucked in a special place
as I do a whisker that once
was on your cherished face

I keep your favorite Buggy-toy
safely on my nightstand
(for a long time after you left me
I slept with it clutched within my hand)

When my sadness is such
that it rends me apart
I seek your precious memory
which has never left my heart

It’s been a year today
my heart’s begun to mend
aided by the certainty that
one day I’ll see you again

When my time comes
I will have no fear
for I will stoop and scoop you up
and kiss your silky ears

Dedicated to my best pal
Nigel T.
January 19, 1991-February 6, 2006
I’ll never stop missing you, Buggy.
Ever.