GONE, BUT NEVER, EVER FORGOTTEN - RIP BUTTERFINGERS

For the last couple of days I have been feeling brokenhearted, as if my heart has been literally ripped in half.  My cat, Butterfingers, passed away this past Monday, September 27, 2010.  As the tears stream down my griefstrickened face, I have nothing but affectionate, tender, warmhearted memories of her.  I was her "grandmother"  for a little over 16 years.  She had actually been Samantha's cat.  Sam found her at the precise moment when we needed her - on our rooftop back in 1994.  Samantha and Butterfingers were inseparable.  They slept together, played together, studied together (when Sam would be studying, books strewn all about her bed, Butterfingers would just laze and slouch on top of her books).  Butterfingers' favorite game to play was hide n' seek.  She loved that game (smile).  She was a beautiful calico with four colors - white, brown, black and gray.  Her chest area was all white - like she was wearing a dicky. 

Growing up, my family had always owned dogs.  I never really was fond of cats until I got Butterfingers.  As a matter of fact, having her (noticed I didn't say owning, because any cat lover/owner knows - you NEVER really own a cat - you are hired staff, hahahaha) made me loving towards cats. Now, because of her, I have this great affection for felines. 

It's funny, or maybe not, but I woke Monday morning with a strange feeling in my gut.  I just didn't feel right all day long.  Then, about 5:30 in the evening, I got the call that I had dreaded.  When I moved to my new address, I couldn't take Butterfingers with me, so my classmate, Jonathan, took her to live with him.  It was only a temporary move, though.  I was in the kitchen cooking when I happened to check my cell to see any missed calls.  Sure enough, I looked and saw Jonathan's name.  Immediately I got an echoing feeling, because just last week or so ago, Samantha and I bought cat food and kitty litter and took it over to her.  So it couldn't have been that she needed food or drink.  I call Jonathan, at once.  With a quiver in his voice, he told me what had happened.  Of course, I straight away called Sam and informed her.  We buried Butterfingers in a beautiful area along the Henry Hudson River in Hastings, New York.  This weekend I'll go visit her grave and place some flowers down.  I was thinking that I could never get another cat after having Butterfingers, but she's the type of cat that would want me to have and enjoy another one.  So, in time, I'll get another cat.

I changed my blog picture.  I was looking for a background with cats, but couldn't find any.  So, I chose this one with its bright greenery.  It brings me great peace and comfort to know that my angel is forever watching over both me and Samantha.  Life is ironic - whimsical, if you will.  That faithful June day, back in 1994, when Sam saved a little kitten named Butterfingers, little did I know that life would turn the tables, and she would eventually save my life.  Your spirit will always live in my heart.  Cheers Butterfingers!!