You see, back in 1994, two years after the end of the 12-year long republican nuclear winter, as I called it at the time, I was carrying in groceries from the car that my girlfriend had purchased. After I'd brought them all in, she told me that there was one more box left. I went out to get that box, and in it was a very small, very long white cat. This cat, who was born on a farm and was the runt of the litter, would eventually be named "Groobie." She was to spend the next 18 or so years of her existence with me.
But it's funny. Nothing anyone could say about a pet could possibly be conveyed with any accuracy. It's such a uniquely close connection. This random gift of a creature helped me get through the most difficult times, and helped me enjoy some of the most rewarding times of my life. A long and important part of my personal history in this world; that's what Groobie was. Toward the end of her history in this world, she was especially well cared for by the other members of my family, and made comfortable during her last days. I especially want to thank Paula. I'll never forget what you did for her (and me).
At any rate, I enjoyed our time together while we had it; our long and fleeting moments. This blog was named after her, obviously, and I admit that I tend to enjoy the company of animals like Groobie more than many people. People who know/love animals know exactly what I'm talking about.
For fuxxake, I hate it when creatures die. She is missed.
|Sleep well, my girl.|