Friday, 4 March 2011
OK...I've succumbed. I'm blogging. I've wasted two and a half precious writing hours setting up my profile and now this post. Oh well...it's done, and the poem I was going to work on remains undone. And my blog has to start with the imminent death of my old cat Billie, too. I wasn't anticipating that. My partner just phoned to say her face is swollen and odd looking and her eye is half-closed. Billie's nearly 18, she's frail and has kidney trouble and a weak heart. I'm stuck out here at Lumb Bank running a writing course - a good four and a half hours away - and if push comes to shove, Steph will have to have Billie put to sleep. That cat saw me through the death of my sister. She snuck in under the bed clothes and stayed with me untill I'd stopped shaking and fallen asleep. She got in under the duvet a lot in those first few weeks. I swore I'd be with her at her end. I wasn't with my sister when she was killed. You want to be near those you love when they go. You want to be able to touch them as they leave.