It is never far from my mind that any writer or diarist will recognize the harrassing,bullying,cajoling and smother one's significan other makes on the creative process.
In my cas it has to be the muse of my dearest companion.
My cat.
Cosi.
Named for the opera Cosi FanTutte,a comic piece about decpetive wives and boorish husbands she has been aptly named.Unless you consider the Aussie slang 'cosi' or costume which isnt suprising consider her rather dusty persian coat....or the fact. I had often instructed her, in the way people do with animals.That as a no nonsense measure.I would consider her death painless,and for her to be remembered as a costume piece, for wear. The taxidermist will have to wait. That particularly ghoulish idea idea met its match ,after an afternoon tea with a friend ,who's cat had recently been tranmorphed into the latest fashion accessory.A fur purse.
Yet an incident came to show me how I react in the face of immediate demise.
Or in this case what should be a memorium to the foibles of my cross to bare for companionship
in fact becomes a celebration of her unique place in my domestic life.
Picture this. The horror as the curb side road kiill is mistaken for the said COSI,the companion of my last decade by my departing mother after a more human concern. This visit has also been a point in which the domestic arrangements between her lap dog and her were given a test.
After the morning vets' visit.The dog is healthy and likely to live another five years ,and not
ready for a exit via vet as a mercy.In her mid seventies I wouldnt want my mother to be campaigning for Uthenasia.
Mind you this, and my mother'sown brush with cancer in the last twelve months would have seemed to have drawn a paralell with her amusement at the companions well being.
Sorry...A dopple ganging cat lies inert at the curb side. I look. I feel nothing.
Not a concern.Infact did the maths on how many cat tins I had bought very morning.
Neighbours emerged bloodied like extras in a 'Tarantino' classic.
Next the flatmates.Acqauintances who instant sympatico appears comic in the extreme
as her lady ship.
Cat.
Companion and feline yawned lazily and walked out into the sunline.
Now at this point.Is one fluffy cat like an another.
Or had my clever friend found a way of disguarding her former self for another.
No.She chose the same bag of bones to do so.
However during the rest of the day.
An acquaintance arrived in to visit teary eyed because he thought
His 'mate' was laid stiffly at the road side.
My own reaction would have to be one of bi partison which has somewhat shocked
companions and friends. But I have always,in most things shown a pragmatic approach to human tragedy.
Meanwhile my aged companion sneezes.
Reminding me....One fluffy cat might look like another but one the other hand...
There has been only one COSI
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