Kroe: Nina

My dearest cat has just died. I don't really want to write or talk about it. I'm inconsolable. I loved her fiercely.
Ninamina, poezemie.
Nina.
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Well, I've just put her in a shoe box. Her little body felt stiff and alien, but her beauiful fur coat is just as soft and familiar as before. I am to bring her to the animal shelter now. Obviously every procrastinating fibre of my body is searching for an excuse now... I don't want to go. I don't. I don't want to hold that stupid box in my arms as I take her away forever. I can just picture it. The sun on my face. Happy passers-by. The cold weight getting heavy on my arms. The tips of her tiny furry feet escaping the stupid lid of the stupid box.
And, then, when I come back... What to do then? First I need to mop the floor. Get rid of those traces of blood she spit up in her final fierce struggle. Then, do the dishes. Just because I'm supposed to do the dishes. Clean my closet. Something I've been postponing for ages.
But then what? Should I get rid of her things? The litter box, her trays, her bed, her little house, ... The cat food.. Well, I suppose I could bring that to the animal shelter as well. I don't know. I guess I'll have to ask David what to do.

I know 1 thing, for sure: my full-time commitment to my dissertation is not quite there, today.
(shrug)

Maybe I'll drop in again, later. Maybe not.

(I don't want to go, I don't want to get up, I don't want this day to continue)

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It's been a few hours since I last edited this post. What has happened since? Been to the animal shelter. The actual walk to the shelter was ok. There was rain instead of sun, few passers-by, and the box did not feel cold. It did feel heavy and the stupid lid had to be held down, or it would have been blown away, uncovering my poor Ninaminapoechiewoechie. This would have been a problem. Not only was I definitely not up to seeing her again like that, but I felt even more strongly about other people seeing her. Nina was a beautiful proud queen of a cat. To have stupid strangers see the wreck that final struggle had turned her into... just unbearable.
The waiting at the shelter was the hardest part. And then, once I'd handed her over to the understanding young man who worked there, things got really tough when I went inside to have my forms filled out. I just couldn't bring myself to explain once again why I was there, what I needed, ... Fortunately, the first guy came back and he helped out with the explaining. He also asked a few questions about how it happened and told me about the passing of his dog. So, I was more or less ok when I left.
Then I went for a bit of a walk in the park (that's where the animal shelter is). Had it not been for David asking me to call him back, there's a chance I'd still be there, this very moment. Not only do trees and ponds never fail to soothe me, but there's always a good chance of seeing many animals (esp. chickens, doves, ducks and... cats) - the sight of which never fails to cheer me up. So, for a while I sat there, and all these cats came closer. Some played with each other, some seemed to be annoyed by each other, and some came closer still, so as to get a better look at me. Lovely curious creatures. Their sight doesn't quite still the heart-ache, but at least they cause my tears to be accopmanied by a smile, you know?
The rest of the afternoon: I ate things I'm not supposed to eat (but it's a one-off thing, I'm more composed and controlled now again), I slept (for about 3 hours, at least), and now I'm here again. I still need to mop the floor. But this time, I'm not too worried about not keeping to my to-do-list. I really, really, really want the blood stains gone. And the tennis/film websites just don't seem to have their usual appeal. Fed and Marty be damned, I want my cat back. Healthy, happy, haughty and heart-warming.

Poor little Nina, I love her so much.