The Hole

After years, though too few, of snuggles, purrs, play and straw thievery, Binx fell asleep and didn't wake up.

Despite trying to resuscitate him, he was gone. He was heavy in my arms as I screamed and cried and told him that I loved him. I thanked him for being there for me through the passing of loved ones and turbulent times.

He was a long and tall cat who left a hole in my life so vast that even the ocean could not fill it.

The rooms felt empty without him. His chair and his perch were cleared in the thought, "have to move that for Binx." Each time realizing the fault and the hole would grow deeper and wider.

I miss and love his one ear freckle, spotted belly, big back feet, huge teeth and green eyes. I miss him so much I wanted to break apart the world and stop time from turning.

In a movie I love very much, to this day, a man makes the sound of ultimate suffering. My heart makes that sound every day, amplified in the cavern left behind, ringing out until it reaches through every vein, through every cell.

A vet close to home did the cremation service and took an imprint of his paw so I could have it. They were very kind and in the saddest times, that is what is needed.

To those who have lost their friends, I'm sorry. I'm sorry if no one seems to understand the depth of your loss. Us brokenhearted souls usually recognize each other, sometimes offering a string for mending even as we are still trying to stitch ourselves up. So far what I've found is that the love I feel that was torn away, was not. It is still there, looking to pour devotion into another heart.

Binx will always hold a special place in my heart.

Let there be photos

And so there are.

You take my bucket, I take your basket

In an attempt to keep the cats flea free, we have taken away all of the fabric places that they may hide. One of those places was a large blue bucket used as a laundry transportation device. At the bottom of the "busket" there always seems to be a grouping of clothing items that need to be washed in a special way or can't be washed with other items. Having taken away all bath mats and toilet seat covers, the busket is also where you would find Binkers.

After removing the bucket and washing the clothes, the cat had nowhere to go that he found comfortable enough.

As I was cleaning my room, I moved my tall laundry basket into the hall so I could do laundry. By the end of the night I only had one load of lights to do the next day.

After finishing a project I exited my room to get ready for bed. There, knocked over, was my basket.


I tried to pick it up and realized it was far heavier than it should have been.

Property

"Lady, that is a tortilla. I don't want that."

Somewhere it is stated in our human-to-cat contract that all parts of my body, my possessions, my surfaces and food belong to Binx.

My other cat, K.C., doesn't really care about the world around her. She is the old lady of the house and goes about doing her own thing, avoiding me as best she can. She also tries to avoid Binx.

 Oh Binxsaurs.

Nothing is safe. Binx forces his way through any door he chooses whenever he deems appropriate. My bathroom and bedroom have folding doors that he has learned how to open. If these doors are locked or blocked he has taken to shoving his arms under the gap between the door and the floor and knocking it off its track. If that doesn't work, he stands on his back feet and paws at the door until he gets fed up and throws himself at it in hopes it will fly open.

Blankets he wasn't supposed to be on in a room he wasn't supposed to be in.

Recently, having never been a lap cat, Binx likes to claw his way into the bathroom and use my lap as a resting place. While this is somewhat sweet, I am kind of busy at the time. I attempted to block him from sitting on my lap and he jumped onto the counter and then onto my shoulders. This is now the norm.

Dude.

Binx has never been short on affection but that affection was usually directed at my Dad and my dog. Both have passed and I think he found that I was the next best alternative. If sunspots near windows could pet and feed him, I think he would have gone in that direction instead.

My legs, depending on their position, are a pillow or sleeping surface. My arms are a wall to lean against and a place to rub his face. Any surface area that is large enough to hold him, is a bed, even when I am using it. I am his human and I belong to him.

Heavy

I made space for him on my desk but he wanted to be closer and I was probably warmer.

Cat Butt

I woke him and told him he had to move.

Eventually he went back to sitting on the desk. Which, of course, belongs to him.

War

I knew something was going wrong when Binx had started to clean himself more than usual. He is normally a very clean cat but he was over cleaning to the point of going bald. I soon started to notice his skin was breaking out with small red welts. I only just learned that those welts are a form of allergy called Miliary Dermatitis. Specifically, this is a reaction to flea bites.

The Cat Flea. Ctenocephalides felis. C. felis for short. The common household cat flea has a life cycle of 4 stages. It is not enough to simply kill the fleas that feed on your pet, you must also kill the eggs and any of the other stages. And you have to kill them again, and again, and again, and again. Apparently, fleas can live for months inside of furniture and carpets. (we don't have carpet)

Animal bedding should be washed, floors should be vacuumed and all clothing and areas exposed to possible flea contamination should be scrubbed up and treated with flea powder or spray. Fleas love damp and dark places. Fleas also love Binx.

It has been all out war. From collars to drops and everywhere in between, I have attempted to kill every single flea that dares to hop aboard my cat thinking he is a free meal. There have been many baths. There have been many drops. It has gotten to the point that I check him every day.

The routine, for over a month now, has been to find the cat while he is calm and somewhat tired. Flip him onto his back and poke around his thighs, stomach and under arms in search of a flea. I have a glass with flea bath next to me and I pick each bastard flea off and drown them in the death mixture. The best way to kill a flea is to dehydrate it, and so it doesn't make much sense, but it still works to kill the adults that I find on Binkers.

He does not like it very much.

It never used to be so hard but now I usually have to fight with him to get him in the flea position. He knows what is about to happen.

It can take up to 10 or 15 minutes to find a flea, so I can't blame him for getting fed up. Binx has made it clear on a couple of occasions that he was not pleased.

Today, after finding more than one flea on him, I gave both of our cats a bath and fitted them with their new flea collars. Armed with flea spray and neck drops, I go once again into the fray.

Current Cat Status: Sleeping and Snoring.

The Cat

It must have been summer, probably 2000 or 2001 and my friend had one cat still looking for a home. He was the last of the litter that had possible been abandoned by the mother, I can't recall, and it really doesn't matter. Tara brought the cat over and handed it to my dad. The second the kitten started falling asleep on him, he was sold. Welcome to the family, new male cat.

When it came to naming him, I wanted something that fit his royal lineage, being an orange tabby, he clearly was descended from kings. I suggested Osiris. This, I was informed, was too close to Cyrus the Virus from Con Air, the movie with Nicholas Cage. I mentioned the name Binx, having intended to use the name on a black cat like in Hocus Pocus. After mentioning it, my father liked it and had agreed with himself that the new cat was Binx. Also, Binkers. And more recently, possibly as an error, my mother calls him Blinkers. My favorite is Binxsaurs and Binxasaurus Rex.

Sometimes he tolerates me.