Days Weeks and Tears

[Fifth in a series]

Not long after good homes were found for each kitten, BabyDoll had her surgery. No more of that, thank you very much.

I did learn something from the whole kitten ordeal. Never pass up an opportunity to take a nap. Ever. Even now, almost twenty years later, I still hold to that theory. And as anyone who has ever had little ones around, you learn to sleep when they do.

I just realized I typed Tears and not Years in the title to this post. Obviously I left it alone. Maybe it was a mental slip of sorts, but that's what I've been feeling the last couple days.

Life went along as it does once BabyDoll and I became fast friends. And damn she was smart. Hell, she liked me, didn't she?

One afternoon - don't know if it was a day, a week, or a year after the kittens - I was watching old reruns on TV. Andy Griffith was on. Yes, I know. And I started whistling the theme song.

Mwarw. Simple and to the point. Still don't know if that means "Stop it you're making me sick" or something else.

Whistled again. Mwarw. Again. Mwarw. That got to be a tradition between us.

And later, on days where she'd sit on the couch watching me at the computer, I'd say "I love you" over and over. And over. And over. If you were to hear it yourself, you'd be saying Mwarw.

And one night when I came in from work, instead of Mwarw (which at times meant "Clean the litter box"), she said "Rowr Roo". With a bit of a higher tone at the end of the "Roo".

Stopped me dead in my tracks.

I immediately knew what "Rowr Roo" meant. And said it back to her.

"Rowr Roo".

And the tears went by.