Reflections from Gitch and Karla

Gitch and I reflected on our lives since Mog passed away a year ago.

Gitch: It has been over 365 sleeps since Mog left us. I never really understood what happened although Mog confided in me that she thought she wasn’t always feeling good. She waited until mom came home from her vacation and then her soul left her furry body. I am now an only cat. I am adjusting.

Karla: Both Gitch and I miss Mog. Since she left, Gitch has my whole heart. Although they were litter mates, they had vastly different personalities. Mog was a cuddler who wanted to be close to me as much as possible. Gitch was more aloof and tolerated gentle pats on his terms. After Mog, things changed.

Gitch: I always thought mom and Mog had a special connection—maybe because mom chose her first. It was all fine with me. I knew that mom loved me and would do anything for me as evidenced when she rushed me to the pet emergency hospital for surgery and four days of hospitalization. She warned me that I might have to get a job to pay the medical bills, but that never happened. After Mog left, however, I was not sure of how to react.

Karla: Gitch has changed over the past year. He has, perhaps, had a change of heart, or he just wants to ease my pain from Mog’s death. It is now his chance to show me he appreciates me. Mog used to sit on my lap when I watched TV or read in the evenings. Now Gitch does that.

Gitch: Mog always slept on the bed when she was alive. I slept wherever I wanted-sometimes on the couch in the living room, sometimes at the far end of the bed. Since Mog is no longer here to protect mom through the night, it is my job. I now sit with her when she reads. I sleep at mid-bed so I can hear her breathing. I move as she moves during the night.

Karla: I find great comfort in having Gitch nearby. I feel a little guilty sometimes that I am not home more since I am off volunteering or being social, but Gitch seems to enjoy his long naps.

Gitch: Napping is good and I am always glad when she returns each day. Mom talks to me all the time. I listen and sometimes respond. She needs reassurance. I hope my warm gazes let her know that I support whatever she is thinking. I am not sure how much she listens to me when I meow. She sometimes says, “I know, I know” but does she really? I believe she does. I am a lucky kitty.

Karla: I am a lucky cat mom.