Everyday there are choices to be made. Pick a picture(s). Cats? Flowers? Old photos?
Old photos? Colleen has a few photos in her archive. They are scattered, disorganized, and precious. Precious few, precious photos. Old black and whites depict images of family from long ago. The folks are known and remembered. Memory fades. I hope the legacy will endure.
Or, it would be – pick a flower. I got lots. It’s like diving. I do a photo survey about twice a day on two decks. I cull out the best in my editing. My digital archive is expansive. … so many pics, so many choices… Quintessential? I’m still looking…
Cats?! Ha ha. I got seven characters. Their numbers vary. Their behaviors are sometimes quite charming. Baskets, boxes, containers? All are fair game. They patiently wait and take their turns. Cuteness reigns. We (wistfully) remember the missing (cats). This would be Feather and Nutley. Ha ha, I can count too.
Who knew? Last shot? I was looking back… There was a NYT article – psychiatry now has a dx for prolonged grieving. It’s more than a year… not quite there yet, by a long shot. But then again, it’s morbid, but, the last time I photographed Ray was… He was happy. He was happy right up to the end. He played. He was playing. It’s was humorous and joyful to watch him take pleasure in the simple act of sitting in a box. Boxes amused him. He loved to be in them. Colleen found him in this box. I shot the pic. Who knew?
So much to say, I could write an essay or an editorial. No! It’s not my mission…
We buried Ray (next to Patch) in a box shipped with sheep fleece. Smell? The cats loved boxes – to climb/play in them. And, Ray had a favorite gerbil/toy and I had recently found it behind a cabinet. He would hide his toys and not tell us so I could retrieve it for him. Ray was so happy to have played with it again. Mike brought over a rose. We (God) had a special sunset that day. The ceremony in the backyard was simple – Ray in a packing box with his gerbil. Grief, grieving, it’s a funny thing. We miss that little cat so much. Cats grieve too. Yes, that’s Nutley with the sad sad eyes. He misses his brother. We are hugging Nutley extra close.
Story or illustration? The bottom two pics are to melt your heart – if you are a cat lover (or not). The rest illustrate the story. One good image would do. But I’m lazy and didn’t try to narrow it down. A new box is always certain “cat” entertainment. Everyone (cat) has a go. Climb in and claim your spot. There is no pecking order. First in…. Ok there is an occasional territorial dispute. In a pinch, a bag will do as a cat container. And the wrapping tissue, this was a whole new experience. The paper was a hit. They tossed it around all day … till it was shredded. Yes, a box, send more boxes!
I don’t know who is happier when Amazon delivers. I get the contents I needed. The cats have a new home/play thing. They nest, rest, wrestle and make it their home. Heaven forbid that I should recycle any box before its time. Cute?! The boxes get in the way till I remove them. Not a word is said. The cats are stoic – and then another package arrives.
I’ve been wondering how to post this story. Which image would illustrate? I have every cat multiple times nesting in this box. It came to our house and has stayed in the middle of everything out in the open and without any charm whatsoever. So, why? The cats all love it. I can’t bring myself to trash the silly box. It’s home. I can say they (cats) are not deprived. There are ample places to rest and lounge. My furniture and rugs have been scratching posts. Shudder, you don’t want to go there… Here’s Elle. She is the timidest of our cats. The others pick on her. There are frequent bouts of hissing – cat misunderstanding. Elle gets box time too. The others seem to respect the box as a neutral zone. Nonetheless with this background, Elle seemed to claim her spot rather emphatically on this occasion. If you are not laughing by now…