|Mary K Swanson
Today, I am a year older. At least, today is when I admit that I am. November 1, I lost my alter ego, the cat I have been carrying with me for almost 20 years. I didn’t realize until I started to write this that when she died, I lost a little bit of what defined me.
She and her feline sisters have stood in for my feelings in my dreams. When I saw her in a dream, I knew I needed to look for the pure underlying emotion that was driving my actions, but that I had not yet accepted as part of myself.
But it’s important to remember that she was herself, first. She had a voice that could peel paint, loved Italian food, hated kisses, enjoyed playing in the sheets while the bed got made, had two color eyes, was white all over, loved to be chased, and to roll in the dirt.
She was a cat.