Miya
1991-2007

My friend died on Tuesday May 29th, 2007.
Ten days before my 30th birthday,
laid to rest before the secret spot.
She is loved eternally,
and missed terribly.

Everything
Everyone
Everywhere
Ends
-Six Feet

This is a story about my friend...no nicknames needed here. Miya is her name, Miya Bon. We had a cat growing up, one that didn't like me so much. We all play our part in the childish torture of animals. So just after my 14th birthday, after our cherished family pet passed away, we went searching. Not for a replacement, but as a family we decided, "we are just cat people". Our house was so empty for those few short months.

So in this dirty little farm house I found myself surrounded by tiny Siamese creatures. Full of energy, each one twisted and turned when I picked them up...all but one. This one looked me straight in the eye and sniffed my nose. Oh this one was going to be mine, I was determined to make this cat like me. Right the wrongs as a child. On the drive home my mom suggested calling this new addition, Ming. My father and I vetoed that one. I'm not sure how we came up with Miya, I think it was her name all along.

I kept her wrapped up in a blanket and took every opportunity to be with her. And boy did it pay off.

This cat. This wonderful creature whom I can still smell the scent of her head, mmm what a smell, even though she is sitting across the room from me right now.

She is my friend. And I'm counting down the hours left in her life. 30 hours and counting...give or take a few.

Everyone knows her to be a tad on the snotty side. I say she just didn't bother with the petty details of life. But she used to be a hellion. Damn cat, you couldn't twitch under a blanket without her clawing chunks out of your flesh. She is a Siamese you know. She may not meow like one or have a temperament of one...but you pissed her off? Yikes.

And she is smart.

She knows different rings tones on a phone, and when to growl at the ring that alerts us to visitors. You look in her eyes and you know she is "trying to figure things out".

I moved out when I was 18. I didn't take Miya with me because the girl I lived with had 2. About a month later I received a call from my mom, "come take your damn cat" she cursed into the phone. I guess my sweet dear Miya walked in front of my parents as they watched TV and proceeded to defecate on the carpet, look at them and walk away. She was not happy. *pause for a chuckle* She does have some attitude about her.

When I lived with a woman with a beast of a cat named Big, Miya lived on top of the fridge. We rented a basement suite with linoleum floors by the door. And we would find urine and feces (I am a trained medical professional..) right in our path to the door. It took awhile until we found out which cat it was. She was not happy. She has never done that again.

This is definitely a smart cat. And I don't know how I'm going to do this. I need the fates to tell me I'm doing the right thing. She is old, she is tired. Her joints just aren't what they used to be. And now she has a cold. It's pretty gross, cat snot. But I love her.

I took her to a vet today and he told me it would take around $700 in evasive medical procedures to tell me...her kidney's are failing. Right now she has a bad breath odor radiating from her head. That is not a good sign. I would rather her be content the last fragments of her life, not stressed. Am I selfish? I could probably prolong it a few months..perhaps only days. Which choice should I make?

I've looked her in the eye, and asked. And the feeling I get is one of contentment of life. She has always had a dignified way about her, and who am I to take that dignity away? I sit beside her now and I notice her fur looks better, softer. Perhaps the smell isn't quite so bad. I am questioning everything. And the fates are whispering behind me..."will I be able to recognize the lust for life in her eyes?". Can I make that call, ring the red phone on the prison cell wall and stay the execution? Or am I just reaching?

I was told that I have to be sure of my decision, I'm trying. But right now it feels so uncertain. Her passing feels like a beginning not just an end. I have to make her proud, I have to do what I'm supposed to do. Perhaps Miya is that "fire" I need, perhaps it will let me miss her less.

And that smells comes in again, its not a good smell, I think its the final warning. Things are about to get serious now. I have to protect her, but I have to be sure...and I fear I am losing my strength. Can I live with the idea I may be a bit too quick before it becomes absolutely necessary?

I took on a duty when she came into my life and this decision is part of that. The other part?

Tomorrow I will drive up to the secret secret spot and bury my friend. She deserves no less.

She is my friend. And I will miss her terribly. Now excuse me while I cover up all clocks in the house and have a chat with the Bon.

Let the camping begin.....

So its been one year since I started this blog, one year of finding oneself. I haven't really written in such a long time, its not that I have nothing to say, its I 'm not sure how to say it anymore. The same “drama” and appeal to last summer has faded, thankfully. And there has been other characters, but it just didn't seem important enough to give them life. Life got serious, way too serious. My muses went off on adventures, and so have I. Perhaps it was the special concoction of all of our souls, the fates and art fused together.

I live but few blocks from the old residence of the soulmate, and I feel her every time I drive up the battered cobbled roadway. Was she a reason I wrote so much? Did she help me see this world with a child's eye?

The heterosexual life partner is off in a land of cowboys, too proud to change her choice in adventure. I feel like a part of me is missing, that ever so important limb. And much like the “phantom limb” syndrome, I turn and expect to see her walking up my street.

My adventure steered me away from the prairie land...and I thought I had failed. Funny thing about adventures...they never follow the rules. I now live in an old city, surrounded by ghosts. And what now? I'm terribly afraid that the characters I've surrounded myself with...are draining me. But I'm missing that strength to break free. What does it take to make the switch, to regain my creativity but lose the shit.

Count to 10, and start again....

"She clasped her hands over her ears and screamed. Something inside her brain cracked like a funhouse mirror that existed only to reflect a distorted world, and as the fragments of the funhouse mirror fell apart other images were revealed behind it."

Swan Song - Robert McCammon

You know..I don't think I'm being very successful in life at this point. I feel drained and tired. Tired of drama and stresses. I would never regret the things I've done and seen but now comes the time to change once again. What "images" are to be reveled to me?

A trip to the secret spot is needed.