in memory of Maui Onion - the world's greatest cat

Happy Birthday, Maui, My Little Nuzzlebutt

Dear nuzzleface, I hope this doesn't upset Jesus but I hope you're the first thing I see when I get to heaven! No wait, this might work: I get there and I see you both right at the same time - but when I see you both at the same time Jesus' big toe is perhaps inched ever so closer to me than you. I do notice this in awe and reverence indeed - and being time is probably not measured in heaven as on earth - I finagle a little glance in your direction at the exact same time I see Jesus and yet somehow through some heavenly time trick I see Jesus first at the same time I see you. And then Jesus gives me the nod - and you come running into my arms. How do I miss you nuzzleboy; God knows.

Love forever,
your human

Nuzzlbreath. Oh nuzzlebreath, you are the worlds greatest cat, then and now, forevermore.

Mommy's having one of her moods ...

There are moments I swear that you're staring back at me through the shrine on my living room wall. I want to rip down that one photo of you, the one where your eyes follow me no matter where I go. I never felt you were a creepy cat, until you died, and I put that photo up. Now I'm tormented by dizziness and crumbling sanity; are you really watching me? Were I to take down the photo, I could be free on denial. But nuzzleface, your memory won't...really let me live in peace.

I did what I could. Had we known you were so ill, do you think we, me, all of us would have not given our last breath to take away the pain of losing you? You seem really busy now in your celestial domain, so I have to remind you, in case you knew but don't give a meowl...we waited 6 months before we had all those rows upon rows of noseprints professionally cleaned off the sliding glass door.

Jesus Christ, it wasn't enough I was so sick from my own disease that I couldn't wipe my own posterior for nearly 6 months...it wasn't enough that you were dead now. The day that man came to wash your noseprints from your sliding glass door was a day of pain, and the waves of memories like vomit on old carpeting...your last days were ugly, harrowing torment, broken dreams, odorous of cancer. My heart was ripped into shreds. You didn't have to just up and check out, nuzzlbreath. Well, the truth is, you didn't. I killed you. Now that's harsh. I had you put to rest. Goddamn that day, and Damn that fucking stupid vet; what was she fucking thinking, telling us the truth while we were encircled around your dying body, and all my dreams were about to be eradicated from this fleshly existence? I wanted to fucking punch her lights out, but my grief acted as a barrier between her face and my fists - and I believe my brother held me back. How fucking dare that stupid bitch.

Your photo is still there in that place. I never went to pry it off their fucking wall. I'm sure it's buried under some 10 year old's photo of a stupid looking kitten.

It is true, nuzzlebreath, you were the majestic physical manifestation of feline perfection. At some point in our time together I began to mathmatically calculate the number of just plain fugly looking cats on earth; I determined that for every molecule that made up you: there existed dozens of very ugly cats - plain cats, boring cats, symetrically challanged cats...anyway, for each one of those unfortunate genetic weaklings, there was one single molecule of you connected to another single molecule and another and another until it was undeniably clear that your breathtaking magnificence had siphoned the beautiful from any cat within ten thousand miles or so.

Now listen, nuzzlebreath. Mommy is still a little nutty, so I still write about you. Mommy created this blog for you, and when she needs to greive she just pulls up a bucket and pukes.

They haven't hauled me off to the funny farm yet, nuzzleface.

I love you-see you later-behave-don't spray. My cat love, I know that someone in Heaven is exceedingly happy because you, nuzzleface, love that someone. Just make sure you tell that someone that you are a loaner.

I don't want to have to make a scene.