Sig the Little Black Cat

So, my sweet cat Sig died yesterday. Its sad and horrible and sad, but I’m sure “he’s in a better place.” We buried him in Markus’ mother’s backyard. I tied a ribbon around his neck with a lock of my hair sewn into it so he can find me when he re-incarnates. I told him not to come back as a spider because I might not think he’s that cute. An orange kitten might be a better choice.

So this morning at 5:30 am, I heard a noise in the kitchen. My first reaction was, “Those Cats!!” but Cleo was still asleep on my pillow and Kiska was on Markus’ side of the bed. I got up to check and found a drinking glass had fallen into the sink.

Hmm. A glass with a flat surface sitting on a flat surface falling into the sink on its own. What are the chances of that happening without some supernatural force? I looked around and everything else seemed to be in its proper place so I went back to bed.

Back to bed, but not back to sleep. I figured the logical answer to the case of the knocked over glass was Sig. He was coming back to say goodbye. Then I went even further and decided that the ribbon with the lock of hair had in fact tied him to the planet where he was destined to roam searching for a way to move on and re-incarnate into an orange kitten and I doomed him with that stupid piece of hair. I figured I had to remove the hair or else he would be here forever and seeing how there was no way I could dig up my beloved dead cat, I’d have to convince Markus to do it.

So I woke up Markus. I explained about the glass that fell and the ribbon and the hair and the roaming forever and how he could never come back as an orange kitten because I doomed him and hadn’t the poor kitten suffered enough. Markus looks over, still half asleep and tells me he put the glass on top of the sponge last night so as not to make a mark in our sink. He said he figured it might fall, but the thought of a wet ring on the stainless steel was worse in his mind.

Hmm. I don’t know which one of us is more disturbed.

So long, sweet kitten. We miss you.