Monday Memories-Boxer

Three weeks after burying Sparky, I did my habitual check of the pet section of the classifieds.  Free kittens.  My heart was pounding and I began to shake a little. The house seemed so empty without my favorite cat and it couldn't hurt just to call...he had two kittens, one of them was a black and white male.  Just what I had always wanted.  The guy tried to give a further description but I was shaking so bad, I didn't a word of what he said, except to get directions.  After I hung up, I remember feeling the guilt of betrayal.  What the heck was I doing?  How could I even think of another cat when Sparky was still so fresh on my mind?

Something kept pressing me forward.  When I saw the little kitten, I was memorized.  I was in a total state of shock.  This little wild guy was the cat I'd always dreamed of having.  Solid black, with white paws, belly and face.  He was so precious.  He looked like Sparky, but he was all his own.  I couldn't believe any of this was happening.  He was like a dream come true.

We headed into town to pick up some extra's for this little bundle of joy, when while I was holding him, he pooped in my lap.  While a natural reaction, I began sobbing, as my husband pulled over.  Maybe this isn't such a good idea. I said through my tears.  I took his accident as a sign that this was all wrong.   The enormity of taking this little guy home became suddenly overwhelming.  I didn't know if I was ready for caring for this kitten, when I was still so heavily grieving my heart cat.  How could this feel so right and so wrong all at the same time?  But a little voice inside of me kept saying, he was the one for me.

We called him Boxer for his white paws and his boxing action.  Boxer was born outside, wasn't litter trained or weaned and was like a wild tom cat.  He was one of those crazy kittens that climbed up the screens, curtains and anything else he could reach.  He was the first cat I didn't have de-clawed and he was just plain wild.  He didn't like to held, never sat on my lap and seem to never tire of tearing all around the house or playing with toys for hours upon end.  He had no problem livening our household right up.

An amazing thing happened as I watched this little bundle of wild abandon, little pieces of my heart began to heal.  Since Sparky was over year old when I got him, watching Boxer was like watching Sparky as a kitten.  Sometimes I would be laughing out loud and other times I was in tears as I grieved and rejoiced in Boxer's spunk and personality.  Nothing like the mellow mood of Sparky, yet so many times, I saw that Sparky look in Boxer's eyes.

Did Boxer replace Sparky?  Never.  But he gave me something to hold on to so I didn't fall through that gaping hole in my heart and gave me just what I needed to heal and love again.   

            And now I can't sit down without Boxer plopping on my lap.