Cheryl had this cat.
This cat really loved Cheryl.
Now I have this cat.
For the first 7 years of Lulu’s life, she lived just with Cheryl. Cheryl was a fairly quiet, extremely meticulous person. When I moved in, Lulu had to become accustomed to me.
I have seldom been called quiet and NEVER (to my knowledge) been referred to as meticulous.
When Cheryl was in the hospital, Lulu was mostly alone, except for when I came home to get clean clothes and pet her, or when our good hearted friends stopped by to change her litter or pet her.
She reverted to a wild, nocturnal neurotic state. When I would leave, she would snuggle herself into Cheryl’s pillow and cry.
It was tad heart breaking.
When Cheryl died, I moved back to Queer Study Hall, the BK intentional/unintentional community apartment I lived in before I began co-habitating with Cheryl.
Lulu moved back with me.
I don’t think Lulu had even seen a dog before.
Every night before we go to sleep, I lay on my back so Lulu can crawl on my chest. She stretches out and puts each of her cute little paws on each of my collarbones and then sinks her claws into my exposed flesh while making some mewing sound that I assume means “hey um, don’t think I’m getting attaching to you. You’re just a warm body until Cheryl comes back.”
Then I say “I’m sorry, Lulu, it’s just us now, kiddo” and we go to sleep.
All things considered, I am impressed with Lulu’s ability to adapt. I am quite sure Lulu is handling Cheryl’s death better than I am. She now chases the extra large dog around the apartment and seems to enjoy the Queer Study Hall windowsills every bit as much as the windows at Cheryl’s apartment.
But she has moments of difficulty, and at these times I can see she is indeed my beloved girlfriend’s cat. For example, although I make my bed 9 out 10 days, Lulu doesn’t believe a bed is a bed unless it’s made. Probably because Cheryl made her bed 10 out of 10 days, including days when she actually in bed because she was sick. You’ve heard of the expression “you’ve made your bed, now you have to lay in it?”
My beautiful girlfriend could make her bed WHILE she was laying in it.
Lulu can’t bear the chaos in my room. For example, Cheryl hated it when I piled my hoodies on a chair. Lulu hates this as well, and will often CLAW DOWN the hoodies left in such a horrendous state.
The following photos were taken last weekend when I committed the travesty of piling clean laundry on a chair. It might have been Lulu’s toughest day ever.