It’s finally Spring!

The changing of seasons always makes me nostalgic because each is a more obvious sign of the passing of time.

I woke up this morning to sunlight streaming through our windows (finally) and old man Guinness sitting on my chest yelling at me to feed him. Yes he literally yells in my face each morning (unless Andrew’s alarm goes off first in which case he’s the one that gets yelled at).

This might sound terrible to a non-cat owner, but for me this behavior is a joy to wake up to because it’s an instant reminder that I still have my best buddy with me.

Guinness turned 17 this February, and many of you might remember we had to say goodbye to his brother Rugby back in September.

Guinness has been a part of my life since he was hamster sized – I could literally hold him in the palm of one hand. He looked like a Black & Tan beer so that’s why I named him Guinness. I was 22 when I got him and Rugby. The two of them traveled home with me every Christmas, moved to Florida with me, moved to Atlanta with me, and of course traveled cross-country to California when we made the big move out here.

Guinness – in his younger years – was an 18 lb handful.

He learned how to open every cabinet and drawer in my various apartments – he even figured out how to open sliding pocket doors! I would come home from work and find him in all sorts of places. In my single days I remember waking up late one night to a loud crashing noise in my kitchen. Terrified I jumped out of bed, grabbed a baseball bat and went to investigate what or who had broken into my house. As I turned on the kitchen light, my gaze traveled across the kitchen floor to find cat food kibble EVERYWHERE. As my eyes followed the path of disaster, I then saw my kitchen pantry door wide open and counted up one, two, three, four, five wire pantry shelves to find Guinness happily sitting 6+ feet up where the cat food storage container used to be. It was 2AM and I had a 6AM flight to catch, so I guess he wanted to make sure I didn’t forget to feed him his breakfast.

These days he is slow, a little hard of hearing, and his frame has become smaller and more fragile. He has small cell lymphoma which we’ve been able to manage well with a steroid and chemotherapy (cats handle chemo better than people do). He can’t jump like he used to, so I have pet stairs for him to get up onto our bed. He spends the majority of his days snuggling with Letty – who we call Nurse Letty because she seems to sense when her presence is a comfort. And every night I fall asleep with his warm little body curled up against my legs.

I know our time together is more limited than it once was, and therefore the time I spend sitting with him, petting him, listening to him yell at me while he licks my face in the mornings – becomes the most special and enjoyable part of my day. The joy and happiness he – and Rugby – brought to my life over the years is a really big part of why we do what we do.

I want to help people find that special soul who meets them at the door when they get home each day, who they can snuggle with, cry with, and binge watch Bravo TV with. Because in doing that, I figure I can help others experience happiness and connection in a world that is often filled with sadness and pain.

Do you have a similar story with your own furry family member? Feel free to share in the comments section below!

With Love and Light,

Caroline