O'Malley7/12/96 - 8/31/97
best cat ever
But first - A disclaimer: This paper is sweet at times, but mostly just filled with ridiculous descriptions (especially in paragraph 3) as I pretended I was a talented writer. Don't judge.
But I think its kind of funny that I still write the same, 13 years later. And when I say funny, I mostly mean pathetic, because shouldn't I have evolved as a writer after 13 years? Especially as I was a Creative Arts major with an emphasis in English? Yeah... embarrassing. Okay, lets get on with it...
O'Malley
O'Malley was my best friend. I know that is kind of weird. I mean, not everyone has an orange, furry feline as their best friend, but O'Malley was special. I could not help loving him. He was my waltzing partner, he ate breakfast with me (using his paw as a spoon), we watched documentaries together, and when I told him all of my secrets, he never repeated them.
My friends thought I was insane. "A cat is your best friend? Get a life!" But I honestly didn't care when they thought. O'Malley loved me for who I was, even when I accidentally stepped on his tail. He forgave me after two seconds, while my other cats would complain for hours.
Living in Saratoga, California is like living in a bubble, the glycerin walls reflecting only rainbows. Tragic events were non-existent in my life, so when O'Malley was hit by a speeding car as he was crossing the street, the world as I knew it, was kicked from its axis and knocked into a depressing void. I'd only had him for a year, but his death affected me as if I'd had him all my life. I cried for days. It felt like each tear was a piece of me, and I cried until there was none left.
When I couldn't cry anymore, because I was completely empty inside, I started thinking. I thought of all the time I spent with O'Malley and all the wonderful things about him. All the things that made him my best friend. How he'd stick his paw underneath my bedroom door and wait for me to open it and play with him, how he'd always have to sleep half on me and half off, and how he made a certain meow when he was looking for me. Then I stopped being so sad. Sometimes I still cry for my kitten, but I know the time I spent with him was never wasted. I loved him so much and I'm glad I got to be with him for a year.
I learned an important lesson from my cat. A lot of lessons, actually. I learned to love people, no matter what (even if they step on your tail), I learned that you have to share with everybody (O'Malley always shared his toys with me), but the most important lesson, I learned after he died. I learned never to take anything for granted. Sometimes you have really special things for only a short while, so you've got to make the most of every moment. Live life to its fullest every day.
O'Malley sure was a smart cat for teaching me such a valuable lesson.
I really did love that cat!
Have a flashback of your own to share? Head on over to Tia's blog and join us!
xoxo,
My friends thought I was insane. "A cat is your best friend? Get a life!" But I honestly didn't care when they thought. O'Malley loved me for who I was, even when I accidentally stepped on his tail. He forgave me after two seconds, while my other cats would complain for hours.
Living in Saratoga, California is like living in a bubble, the glycerin walls reflecting only rainbows. Tragic events were non-existent in my life, so when O'Malley was hit by a speeding car as he was crossing the street, the world as I knew it, was kicked from its axis and knocked into a depressing void. I'd only had him for a year, but his death affected me as if I'd had him all my life. I cried for days. It felt like each tear was a piece of me, and I cried until there was none left.
When I couldn't cry anymore, because I was completely empty inside, I started thinking. I thought of all the time I spent with O'Malley and all the wonderful things about him. All the things that made him my best friend. How he'd stick his paw underneath my bedroom door and wait for me to open it and play with him, how he'd always have to sleep half on me and half off, and how he made a certain meow when he was looking for me. Then I stopped being so sad. Sometimes I still cry for my kitten, but I know the time I spent with him was never wasted. I loved him so much and I'm glad I got to be with him for a year.
I learned an important lesson from my cat. A lot of lessons, actually. I learned to love people, no matter what (even if they step on your tail), I learned that you have to share with everybody (O'Malley always shared his toys with me), but the most important lesson, I learned after he died. I learned never to take anything for granted. Sometimes you have really special things for only a short while, so you've got to make the most of every moment. Live life to its fullest every day.
O'Malley sure was a smart cat for teaching me such a valuable lesson.
---------
I really did love that cat!
Have a flashback of your own to share? Head on over to Tia's blog and join us!
xoxo,
8 comments:
Pretty impressive for 13, I think! Do you have cats in your life now?
Dangit, after reading that, I love and miss your cat too :(
Very cute...and sad. My cat is 13, but lives with my mom four states away. Looks just like O'Malley, but he's darker and his name is Aslan.
I want to know the answer to MMTM's question too.
Oh gosh, no I wasn't 13 when I wrote it... I was 16 - I just wrote it 13 years ago!
OH! Yes, I have two kittens... Sophie and Somersault. They are fluffy lil' pains-in-the-butt... but SO cute!! :D
Aw . . :-(
One of our cats was hit by a car a few years ago, and my oldest still cries for him on occasion.
I loved your third paragraph. ;-)
Aw :( Poor kitty. That was a sweet story you wrote though. Personally I loved the "glycerin walls"...hee hee. When I was 16 I wrote faux angst ridden poetry about nuclear annihilation. Hey, it was the 80's...the USSR and a lot of nukes were around, what can I say? I can vouch for you...your writing has gotten better!
Paragraph 3 is the best.
Post a Comment