Coping

To some, our mourning of Bonnie may seem ridiculous or overly dramatic. All I know for sure is that it hurts and our home seems empty without her.

So far Clyde is ok, we think. He is sticking a little closer than usual…sleeping right up next to me as opposed to the foot of the bed, and as I type this, perched atop the kitchen table while I’m blogging….Bonnie’s usual spot. When I left for work today I kept the television on with the volume turned down slightly so he’d have some sort of company…so maybe he wouldn’t feel so isolated. I’d give anything to know what was going on in that kitty head of his…does he truly understand? How is he feeling?

E.B. and I are coping in our own way, too. We talk about it alot, naturally because he is so curious and asks many questions. Friends and family have poured out their condolences. My aunt even gave us this stone to put on Bonnie’s final resting place:

Nightime is the toughest. Bonnie was literally always underfoot while I blogged and read email. Once she was finished checking out what I was doing she would curl up in the beanbag and settle in for the night. I could see her beanbag from my bed and always check in on her.

I’m trying really hard not to over-analyze her death. I know this happens, it’s just a part of life, it would have happened eventually. I am resolved to it all in those ways. But I can’t stop thinking about the “what ifs”. What if I hadn’t given in to her begging to be let out that night? What if I would have checked on her outside…could I have distracted her from going near the road? Why was she even near the road? It was so unlike her. But most of all, why oh why did the last thing I have to have said to her before I let her out be scolding her for her relentless begging to go out? That? I don’t know if I will ever forgive myself for.