This is my first domain name blog entry for the New Year.

The glorious sunrise beginning of the day shimmered with hope and promise.   Indeed the rest of the day offered positive incidents: a call from a new friend with an invitation,  a solution to a transportation problem and new educational resources.

Oh, but in retrospect the sun  cast
shadows (“red sky in morning, sailor’s warning”).  First I comically locked myself out of my sister’s house in my haste to photograph the above mentioned sunrise.  Then a dear friend called to warn me that my cat wasn’t doing well.

I never dreamt the day would end in writing a farewell  for my best friend of over ten years. I was waiting on a commuter bus at a MARTA station when my dear friend called a second time: “Your cat is dead.” I could only respond with choking noises . Nothing else would come out of my throat. He then began to apologize abjectly, as only someone who has been through a loss with you can.

Salem is the only cat I’ve had the pleasure of living with for over ten years. My daughter found him for me as a rescue from an owner too ill to continue caring for him. He was only two years old when I got him: regal of bearing, sleek and black with green eyes and at least 18 pounds.

He hid under the bed in my condo for about two weeks but once he came out, he was by my chair or in my lap every chance he got, purr-motor thrumming full throttle. He begged at table more shamelessly than a dog (unsuccessfully), and would not even eat unless a human was in the room, so uber-social was he.

Faithfully he whirred in my ear every morning, gnawed my knuckles, and head butted me endlessly. He ate my popcorn and stole my covers. Whenever I’d had a particularly challenging day, he would trot alongside and leap up into my lap and settle in comma fashion. When it was vet time, he obediently walked into his carrier. Through all of my moves, he licked away my tears when I wept. No matter if I’d been away in Egypt for two weeks, New York for two days or if I just had worked late-always…he would miaow staccato, demanding I let him put his face up to mine to sniff and then to head butt.

In his last two years he developed hypothyroidism and kidney disease and was often ill. Still the constant snuggling, the even temperament, remained, even through invasive blood tests, endless diet rotations and my angst.

Today I picked up his body, awkwardly and wrapped him in a towel and placed him in a box. The weather was windy, there was driving rain…and it was cold. The thing of it was there in the car with Jon and me. Why does no one ever tell you about that aspect? Dear Jon carried the box in the rain and into the Deceased Pet Care chapel where we rather unceremoniously deposited him into a plastic bin atop a table. The tray suggested the vet’s weight table..for the last time. There is a process, and Juliann Brace, a Certified Registered Pet Funeral Director, explained it patiently, but the words blurred along with my vision through the tears. I thank God Jon and Juliann were there. I’m not sure what I would have done without either of them.

I’ll attend Salem’s service in a couple of days. I need the grieving opportunities. Ten years is a long time, and I always promised Salem we would grow old together and I would be with him to the end. We didn’t and I wasn’t. I asked Jon to leave us alone while I stroked Salem’s head and his glossy black fur one last time and gave him a reverse head butt.

I’ll see you on the other side, Bug. I said. Wait for me.”http://SalemBerry2001-2015