Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

When I realized that within less than a week I'll be away from Smee, my heart sank and I began to miss my Ami in a fierce kind of way. I think he has sensed with his magic feline ESP that I will be away for awhile and yesterday he pasted himself to me, requiring more love than usual. He has come to sleep on me and he embeds himself into the blankets around my chest. I tell Smee that I wish I could stow him away and he could go with me, but Smee's nerves are on the outside—he wouldn't travel well.

Therefore, I've asked Pooky to keep a log of Smee's suffering. It's a simple daily scale of 1-10, with 10 being the worst kind of suffering possible. Smee probably won't reach a rating of 10 because in the evenings, Smee lays on Pooky's lap and he accepts the love from Pooky. But, Pooky won't allow the signature Smee nose licking. Smee is a cleaner and I indulge his need to do a little maintainenance on my nose and ear lobes. (I do hold my breath because he does eat tuna.)

The other beasties will be missed as well, but I am confident that their levels of suffering will not be as great. Theodore Montague has recently taken to coming to my lap for petting, Stash still waits to come to my lap just at the moment I bring out my crocheting, and Little Ming pays her zinging respects in a hurry. Messrs Doo & B don't come to the lap for love—it's not their style, but they do look to me to use my opposable thumbs and open the tuna cans.

Yes, I have to confess I'll miss the beasties slightly more than Pooky. The reason being is that I can call and talk to Pooky. I can ask him if he is suffering, coo at him, and he'll know that I am coming back. I cannot do the same with Smee and the others.

I do hope that Pooky isn't suffocated by having a cat pile of all six of them on the bed when he sleeps. There's a total of 81 pounds of cat to be reckoned with. I wonder what it would sound like if all 6 were to purr loudly at the same time?