Last week the dreams took a dark turn. I hurt my back dancing around strenuously and twisting. It was so bad that I was laid up for 4 days. Immediately after I hurt my back and took to bed, Sticky cat went out & we never saw him again. I dont know what happened to him, but in hindsight we all agree that he probably needed vet care. The weather happened to be nice out that day. I just know that he went out around 2:30 pm on Monday Feb 16 and he seemed to feel vigorous even though we had all had had coughs and colds the prior weekend. I warned Sticky cat that I was too weak to help him if he got into trouble when I let him out. Then I passed out with his sister Swirly cat in our bed. I tried to blog tumblr on my back and sleep while waiting patiently for him to come back for 24 hours. On Tuesday at noon it hit me that Sticky might not be coming back. I had slept on my back in pain for 19 hours. I tried to get up and go looking for him but it was no good. My arm went numb and I collapsed in the backyard while frantically calling out to him. I am sure that my wails & plaintive cries disturbed the librarians working next door.
What I remember is that he left our rooms with my verbal warning in his ears that Monday. 2 hours later I limped outside to get my laundry off the line and then I felt that he was really gone for good. The next day my worst fears were confirmed. I was frantic and probably injured myself even worse in some panic attack. I dont remember any kitty coughing or blood sputum except in my dreams. I nevertheless kept having recurring dreams all week about going out into the garage to find him dying out there. In my nightmares nothing I did or didnt do for Sticky ever helped his suffering.
Instead of cartoonish my dreams after that were all about the terrible things that might be happening to Sticky cat. I obsessively wondered if maybe a human hurt him, a car, a dog, wild animals, poor health, or even if pet nappers got him. I still wonder if perhaps maybe in my delirium I overlooked Sticky's desperate hacking and crying in the garage as he made his death rattle? I had always decided to take a hands off approach to rearing Sticky, but I neurotically fear that I might have done something mercilessly cruel by ignoring his weak cries and gasps that day. All I know for sure is that I no longer can trust my memories about his disappearance. Now I wonder with dread if maybe he really could have been coughing up blood in the garage and I didnt want to hear him and I just pretended that he was all right? Could I have stoically forsaken Sticky cat in his time of need? I had all sorts of terrible fearsome dreams about it that Tuesday afternoon. I could tell that my emotions were quickly spiraling out-of-control into another nervous breakdown. I had changed from being ecstatically happy to be with him the week before to being suicidally depressed about his absence.
I've still been obsessing over what happened to Sticky cat for a week now. The worst neurotic fears I have are that either my dad hurt him in rage or else I ignored him in his death throes. One bright hope I have is that Sticky was secretly adopted by a passing wealthy farmer in order to hunt mice in a warm barn. His brother Gumball whom I had given to the neighbor came home just as Sticky cat went missing. I originally had given Gumball to the neighbor when he was a kitten, but the neighbor tells me that Gumball had been missing for 6 weeks prior until he just showed up home before the cold arctic blasts hit us. Coincidentally Gumball returned just as Sticky cat was gone. Perhaps the rich farmer had taken Gumball before and then decided to return him here before taking Sticky cat in his stead? Its enough to drive an old atheist like me to prayer. I pray that Sticky cat is actually doing well somewhere almost as fervently as I pray for those happy idyllic days together to come back along with my own sanity and peace-of-mind. I wish with all my heart that Sticky cat would come back to us hale and healthy.
