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bethb's Diaryland Diary


Secret Agent Sadie Talulah LaRue

You were the best pet ever. A far better pet than I ever deserved. When I adopted you from the shelter, the guy put the box on the floor and you lithely hopped on in. ready to go. you were mine. I was yours. You knew i was yours the first time we met. I had to wait 24 hours to pick you up. I bought a lint roller the night we met. the first of many.
When we went back to get you, my friend Lea was with me. There was a younger (I'll admit, cuter) kitten there and Lea was adamant- get the one you came for. And you hopped in the box.
I took you home, I was in intern housing for the explored the small, small studio. Always hiding in the hole in the back of the closet whenever a boy came over.
When i came home from work, i would scoop you up and lay on my bed, singing to you...holding you on my chest and petting you.
Sometimes you would escape out of the window into the courtyard that our basement room opened onto. Once or twice or maybe more than twice you climbed over the fence and got out but you never went far.
Remember when we moved from that studio to the studio across the street from eastern market?
The first night we were there Lea and I went to Gtown to pick up some things i needed for the apartment and you ran out the door and we ran out after you and the wind blew the door shut locking us all out. We spent the night at lea's. You and i on the floor of her living room and you held your cat business in until our creepy neighbor Pete showed us how to break into our apartment the next morning.
Remember when i tried to leash-train you? taking out out to eastern market and you did this low, slinky, secret agent-y walk along the perimeter of the building, earning you your 'secret agent' status?
Remember picking your name? watching the Today show one morning, willard scott wishing impossibly old people a happy birthday and when i said the name 'sadie' out loud, you looked up at me. thus becoming sadie. i don't even remember what your name was when i got you. it doesn't matter. you were sadie talulah la rue. you just didn't know it yet.
I remember sometimes I'd some home from work and be in the bathroom, standing at the sink, you'd jump from the toilet to the sink to stand up and give me a hug. One paw on each of my shoulders and rubbing your face against me.
I don't know that i've ever met such an affectionate cat. Or so clever. In that apartment, you learned tricks to wake me up. pushing coffee cups or other vessels off of tables and shelves. pulling on my hair. lightly swatting my face with your paws.
I think that's the alarm i will miss most of all.
even last week, you'd hop up and pat my face until i'd open my eyes. and then you'd stop the second they'd open. and start once i closed my eyes again.
oh sadie. your gold eyes. everyone always complimented your looked like a little lion.
and then people would say 'does she like to be picked up?' before waiting for an answer.
You liked to be held, but you didn't like to be picked up. you were on your terms. always.
You were very protective of me. sitting on my foot. reaching out and placing one paw on me as we slept.
curling up with me when i slept or napped.
i hated the scratches you etched on my chest from the fire drill this summer but now I'm happy to have them. to have a small physical reminder of you on my body that i can see every day.
remember when we moved into the house on highwood? so many rooms for you to explore! three floors! a roommate! a roommate with multiple bands! you had a chair you always preferred. it became thick and embedded with your fur after awhile. We would comb the chair but it would always take on a plush, beige cast in a few days.
Ryan hated cats. I think he maybe tolerated you a little. i remember you used to tear apart his couches (never mine) and the one time you were scratching/army crawling along the bottom and you fell asleep mid-crawl and were snoring, feet still stuck in the sofa. I also remember that one time, after ryan was kind of showing off for a girlfriend, and verbally insulting you; you pooped on his bathmat. That is the only time, in the history of you, that I can think of you not pooping in your box. You knew what you were doing. You knew what he was saying. You were so smart.
I remember you bounding down the stairs to greet me when i'd come home from work. belly swinging. you earned that belly at the apartment by eastern market. that's when i caught you opening the door under the sink and reaching into your food bag and feeding yourself, paw to mouth right there. you were too smart for your own good.
except for when you weren't. Like when you climbed a neighbor's tree and i had to climb a ladder and rescue you after midnight one night by eastern market.
Or the two times you fell/went into the deep airshaft next to the apartment building. the first time i was able to throw an old discarded futon frame down there and you climbed it like a ladder to where i could reach down and grab you. the second time required more ingenuity.
a makeshift elevator consisting of a garden hose looped under a plastic chair and a bunch of treats to coax you up on the chair to tell you it was ok and i could raise you to safety.
remember all the moles you'd catch at Highwood and display them for us on the doormat? ryan used to blame you for bringing mice into the house. but the mouse poop under the sink that was there when we moved in proved otherwise.
I remember being really amazed when i'd let you out the back door to stay in the yard, but you figured out where the front door was and you'd wait patiently there to be let in.
Oh! remember the summer of the cicadas? i could always tell when one got in the house, you'd act so strange. or sometimes carry one around in your mouth.
so gross.
you were so good about battling the bugs for me. going after a wasp in my bedroom. or swatting at the flies.
your muzzle turned white. you slowed down. I was glad to move out of highwood so there weren't any steps for you to climb.
we spent most of the blizzards curled up. i was working. feeding the birds the terrible scones i made. feeding them from the windowsill so you'd have something to watch. some real birds.
Oh, sadie, remember 'fake bird'? i was putting CDs away at the EM apartment and light was bouncing off of them and you made this chattering noise and started bouncing off the walls, attacking the reflections. i made a funny noise singing "fake bird! fake bird!" and just me singing it like that would make you go into chatter mode.
i can't believe i'll never play fake bird with you again. or hold you. or bury my face in your soft belly fur.
taking you back to the vet today was the hardest thing i ever had to do because i knew i'd be coming home without you and entering a sadie-less apartment for the first time was much harder than i expected.
I couldn't just cary your body this morning. the weight of it was just too real. i carried you, wrapped up in your pet bed. in the elevator i was sobbing and scaring the other residents of the building but i don't care.
i can't imagine the last 13 years of my life without you. i honestly don't know what i am going to do without you.

10:43 a.m. - 2010-08-23


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