With crocuses pushing their bright faces above the earth, it seems the perfect time to write about Easter.
My Easter stories may differ slightly from yours. They don’t involve messiahs, passion plays, hot cross buns or colourful foiled-wrapped eggs. My story involves a young girl of four years old who wanted a bunny for Easter. Although I understand rabbits could be trained, I had visions of round chocolate pellets scattered throughout the house and they weren’t very appetizing.
We wanted to give our daughter a warm fuzzy pet, so in lieu of a rabbit, a brown tabby cat entered our life. Angelica named her 'Easter' and she has been with us for eighteen years.
For a while she turned into a roly-poly. This was one of her favourite positions for belly rubs.
My feline friend upon my shoulder.
Easter-the-Beaster as she was known in her bountiful glory days.
Easter sitting in the '47 Gretsch guitar case. Without fail as soon as the guitar was removed, she jumped in there and listened to the tunes.
She finds the most comfortable way to sleep. And knows how to put these mischevious brothers (Arthur Lee Cricket & Pippin) in their place when need be. She is the Feline Matriarch and the boys know to walk a wide swath around her.
Mostly these days, she takes things slow and has shrunk in size but she is still aloof and persnickety when she feels like it.
I’m glad to be writing this post while she is still alive. We took her to the vet on Friday, I convinced myself going through the motions of doing so will make the inevitable - taking her for the last time - somehow easier. A delusion I know.
The good news is, though she is geriatric and perhaps a bit senile, she’s doing well considering she’s close to ninety in human years.
Now, in her latter years, more spiritually attuned, she seeks the light
every chance she gets.
She always gives me a warm welcome when I come in the door from work, and if I’ve been away too long, she gives me a piece of her mind. That’s how I know she’s okay. She’s turned into an old crone.
Thanks Easter, your empathy radar has always been finely tuned. Over the years any time anything bad happened, before anyone else knew, you were right there by my side. Maybe you have a bit of a saviour in you, after all.
Scarlett Sumac 2012