Mookie On The Edge

I was always a cat lover. I got my first cat when I was 9 years old, and her name was Minnie. This is an entry that I will probably come back to and add to since it is the doorway to unlocking so much of my life. Minnie was the subject that allowed me to finally open up to my therapist about 13 years ago, and turned me into an emotional person. I told her “it’s too late to mourn anything from my childhood.” She insisted it was not. But it was too big for me. So she gave me this “homework assignment.” Go home and write about just one thing you lost as a child. That thing turned out to be Minnie. She died when I was 14. I went catless for about 17 years, then I got a kitten for Holly for her birthday. She had never had a cat. Mookie was a tailless cat that was colored like a holstein. So we named him “Moo Cow Kitty” or “Mookie” for short. Mookie died very suddenly one morning in 1993, laying a patch of sunlight in my living room, and left us all broken hearted. We loved him so much.

This large pastel hangs in Madeline’s bedroom.

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