spike curled up next to us all saturday night to sleep, then we went home sunday to spend the night with wanda. we were back at otivo again last night. spike was quite energetic before bedtime, rubbing up against my art project on the floor, purring like himself and eating LIKE A HORSE, enjoying a nice comb-through to try to clean up his coat (which he can’t clean), and even jumping on leanne’s lap — but not for long, certainly not able to cuddle like Our Spike.
then while we slept last night, he stayed distant, blending into the black fleece by the door. today he doesn’t seem to feel as well.
it was dreary and rainy yesterday, and it’s dreary and rainy today. usually i love the rain. yesterday, we went to look at houses and there was the unspoken difference now: we don’t need the outside access. there is a family member now missing from our plans.
neither leanne nor i feel much like working today. spike has been leanne’s steady companion for his entire 11 years. i wish i could fully be there for leanne but he’s been my companion for 6 years, and i feel this demise acutely. so many of us do; the whole otivo crowd. others who don’t even know his predicament yet will be touched by this. i think of kesin: to him, spike and wanda are a unit – just like leanne and moya – they don’t exist singly.
i know every cat owner in the entire universe thinks their cat is more unique, clever, and special than the rest, but in spike’s case it of course really is true. spike is the only cat i have ever known to go on walks with people. he used to walk leanne down the street and then wait all day for her to return to that spot when they lived on bainbridge island. he would walk me down the block in noe valley. he pants like a dog in the car. only he hasn’t struggled nearly as much with his recent trips to the vet. it’s as if he knows it’s different now.
it’s in the back of our minds, all the time, this horrible thing ahead.