Missing Our Blue-Eyed Boy
The one constant presence in our lives and home for these entire 15 years of marriage has been Smokey. Smokey is our blue-eyed, grey Siamese cat who we rescued during a pet adopt-a-thon in Queeny Park in Saint Louis the summer before we got married. After four years of living with diabetes and the onset of violent seizures, Tom and I realized late last week that it was time to say good-bye to Smokey. After fifteen years there are sounds that become so ingrained in your daily life that you only notice them once they are gone. The padding of paws and claws across tile floors or going up and down the stairs. The sound of back legs crouching and then leaping off the ground into a chair or a cat tree and the thump of jumping down. Paws banging on the side of a litter box and the meow/mauw that greets you multiple times a day. Usually an indicator that someone is ready for food. Siamese are typically very vocal, talkative cats, and Smokey was no exception. And while we still have H