RIP Coco- 1994 -2013
Posted: Sun Nov 24, 2013 11:11 pm
One of our cats passed away last night...
She was born in 1994...19 years is a really good run for a cat...
I wish Jimmy hadn't been the one to find her...("Mommy, Coco's sick she won't wake up")
We still have one of her daughters from a five year later litter, Lisa, (and the pooches are only five and seven years old, and Max the Parrot will probably outlive us all..) so it will probably be awhile before we have to go through this again...
Tati learned about death much younger then she should have, when her "Papa Joe" passed away...they were very close...
He was a wonderful good natured Italian man who The Queen Mum had married, (he had a marble flooring business, and he succumbed to years of inhaling marble dust and smoking Marlboro cigarettes...even though his English was poor, and we could barely understand each other, we became good friends..He called Tati "the bambina"; he gave her an harmonica when she was 3 that she still has sitting on a shelf in her room; and she also still has a picture of him holding her when she was an infant on her bed room wall...)
We had become such good friends, that I gave the Eulogy at his funeral...
When we were coming back from the burial in Colma, (where else would you bury an Italian in Northern California?)
I tried to explain to Tati that Papa Joe had gone to "Heaven"...
And she responded, 4 years old, by saying, "I hate Heaven. Heaven is a place where people go and they don't come back!"
That went through me like a knife...I didn't have an answer for that...
Since she's gotten older, (she's all of 14 now) we've talked about this a few times, and even though she's a good Catholic Girl, she's become something of an Agnostic....
However, that is not going to stop her from going along with us telling her little brother that Coco has gone to "Kitty Heaven"... (She's upset about Coco too...)
We're going to have a little funeral service for Coco tomorrow; we've put her in a shoe box, and we're going to bury her in the backyard, and say some nice words about her, "She was a good cat. She never snapped at anyone, and we're going to miss her"
She was born in 1994...19 years is a really good run for a cat...
I wish Jimmy hadn't been the one to find her...("Mommy, Coco's sick she won't wake up")
We still have one of her daughters from a five year later litter, Lisa, (and the pooches are only five and seven years old, and Max the Parrot will probably outlive us all..) so it will probably be awhile before we have to go through this again...
Tati learned about death much younger then she should have, when her "Papa Joe" passed away...they were very close...
He was a wonderful good natured Italian man who The Queen Mum had married, (he had a marble flooring business, and he succumbed to years of inhaling marble dust and smoking Marlboro cigarettes...even though his English was poor, and we could barely understand each other, we became good friends..He called Tati "the bambina"; he gave her an harmonica when she was 3 that she still has sitting on a shelf in her room; and she also still has a picture of him holding her when she was an infant on her bed room wall...)
We had become such good friends, that I gave the Eulogy at his funeral...
When we were coming back from the burial in Colma, (where else would you bury an Italian in Northern California?)
I tried to explain to Tati that Papa Joe had gone to "Heaven"...
And she responded, 4 years old, by saying, "I hate Heaven. Heaven is a place where people go and they don't come back!"
That went through me like a knife...I didn't have an answer for that...
Since she's gotten older, (she's all of 14 now) we've talked about this a few times, and even though she's a good Catholic Girl, she's become something of an Agnostic....
However, that is not going to stop her from going along with us telling her little brother that Coco has gone to "Kitty Heaven"... (She's upset about Coco too...)
We're going to have a little funeral service for Coco tomorrow; we've put her in a shoe box, and we're going to bury her in the backyard, and say some nice words about her, "She was a good cat. She never snapped at anyone, and we're going to miss her"