Birthday Blues

For years now, I've experienced an overwhelming sense of depression in the two weeks leading up to my birthday. It fizzles out sometime after, I've never clocked it.

I don't know if it's brought on by the fact that I am getting older and am no longer the young chick my psyche says that I am or perhaps related to the end of summer seasonal changes. Whatever the cause, it started early this year, precipitated by the death of my beloved Prissy. (I am at this very moment trying to not cry.)

Whatever the cause, I soldier on, man up, walk it off! I get by. I cry, I wallow in self-pity, I eat bad foods, and then I'm over it.

So if I seem moody, irritable, and a little sad, don't worry. I'll be back to normal soon enough. Unless this year it is all a cruel joke of menopause; if so, turn up the A/C and get used to it...GROWL!

Goodbye

I'm fighting the tears as I type this. Today, I said goodbye to my pretty Prissy, my companion and comfort. I loved her dearly and truly know that she loved me. My father laughed about her dedication to me, her constant need to be touching me.


This was our first Christmas together. Look at that face!


Festive, huh?


How many cats do you know that love a bath?

She never liked to play. I remember once I spent about $12.00 on a clockwork mouse. I called her into the room, wound it up and set it on a table. She looked at the mouse, looked at me, back to the mouse, back to me. Then, while looking at me, she casually reached over, knocked the mouse off the table, and walked away.

I was going to publish the slideshow of a day in the life of Prissy, but instead, click here.

You know, remembering all of this has made me smile. I hope you don't mind.