Makes Sense To Me

 "I can resist anything except temptation."

Oscar Wilde

For The First Time

Jacques threw the noose over the fortified beam he had recently secured there, down in the garage, beneath the living room, where his wife was contentedly watching a movie.

He placed the stool carefully under the noose and stepped up onto it to check for accuracy.

He stepped down to empty the change from his pockets. He had a thing for change. Liked the feel of the weight in his right hand front pants pocket.

He placed it all neatly on the card table he had put in place two days ago. Stacked the coins carefully. Nickels on nickels, quarters on quarters, dimes on dimes. 

$6.35.

Jacques wrote a note: "Buy ice cream for the neighborhood kids." Placed the note next to the coins.

He smiled in appreciation at the orderly work he had done, the generous thought reflected in the note he would leave behind.

Jacques stepped up on the stool, slipped the noose around his neck and kicked the stool out from under him.

Against all odds, the look on his face in death was one of peace.

For the first time in his life.

Norm Macdonald Is Dead

Norm Macdonald was hilarious.

I loved the man. He was quirky and comfortable in his quirkiness. 

At one point he had kind of a talk show thing - called The Norm Show - that I could find on demand. I used to dial it up and sit back and marvel at his insanity.

He anchored the Weekend Update desk for 4 years on Saturday Night Live. He was loved and respected.

Straight faced. Deadpan. Except for the perennial smirk on his face. You gotta have balls, you gotta be confident, to perform deadpan. You are hanging your hat on your sense of humor and not trying to influence the audiences' reaction in any way.

So many of "today's" comics are not naturally funny - they are just loud. Audiences react because audiences are sheep. Audiences say to themselves "Gee, I would never say anything like that or in that way" and they define that as funny. It is not.

You gotta be smart to be funny.

Norm Macdonald was smart. He was funny.

He battled cancer for 10 years and few people knew about it. He kept it quiet. David Bowie did the same thing. When Bowie died I was floored. It is a noble thing to fight cancer on your own. I have enormous respect for the strength of people who handle it in that way.

Reactions: 

David Letterman - "In every important way, in the field of stand-up, Norm was the best. An opinion shared by me and all peers. Always up to something, never certain, until his matter-of-fact delivery leveled you. I was always delighted by his bizarre mind and earnest gaze. (I'm trying to avoid using the phrase twinkle in his eyes). He was a lifetime Cy Young winner in comedy. Gone, but impossible to forget."

Jim Carrey - "My dear friend Norm Macdonald passed after a brave 10 year battle. He was one of our most precious gems. An honest and courageous comedy genius. I love him."

Adam Sandler - "Every one of us loved Norm. Some of the hardest laughs of my life with this man. Most fearless, funny, original guy we knew. An incredible dad. A great friend. A legend. Love u pal."

Conan O'Brien - "I am absolutely devastated about Norm Macdonald. Norm had the most unique comedic voice I have ever encountered and he was so relentlessly and umcompromisingly funny. I will never laugh that hard again. I'm so sad for all of us today."

Sarah Silverman - "Norm was in a comedy genre of his own. No one like him on this planet. Please do yourself a favor and watch his stuff. He was one of a kind of all time."

Seth Macfarlane - "To so many people in comedy, me included, there was nobody funnier than Norm Macdonald. You always hoped he would hang around after the work was done, just so you could hear his stories and get a laugh. So hilarious and so generous with his personality. I'm gonna miss him."

Seth Rogen - "I would stay up specifically to watch him on talk shows. He was the funniest guest of all time. We lost a comedy giant today. One of the all time greats."

A comedian's comedian.

That is the highest compliment that can be paid in any profession.

Two Things I Know For Sure

#1 - I cannot live without pets.

For the first time since 1987 there are no pets in this house. Might as well be a fucking morgue. It fucking sucks.

We are already taking steps to remedy the situation. Yesterday we contacted the SPCA and another pet adoption agency. This void must be filled immediately.

We have a plan.

We will be adopting two cats. They have to be from the same home so that they have lived together and get along easily. Surprisingly (to me) there are lots of dual adoptions available that meet that criteria.

They have to be loving and gentle. Hopefully lap cats. If they are not lap cats up front, they will become lap cats - once they feel the genuineness of the love we will have for them they will think - "I gotta get more of this."

(Editor's note - My heart aches for moving on so quickly from Maka, but I am tired of crying. Walked into the kitchen this morning, turned on the stove light, turned on the overhead light, turned around and took one step towards the water bowl that is not there.)

#2 - I never again want to be in the position of putting a pet down. 

Adopting two new cats might appear self-defeating as far as this policy goes, but I am betting on longevity - for the cats. Maka lived 18 years, Lakota lived 20 years. Carol and I attribute that longevity, in part, to the sweet sensitivity and genuineness of the love we gave to them.

Vegas would not give good odds for me living to the age of 87. Neither would I.

Here's my rationale for Thing # 2.

I put Lakota down on January 31, of 2020, I put Maka down on September 11, 2021. Both of their last days were violent - painful to watch. I have put 5 pets down since 1987 - none more painful to experience than Lakota and Maka.

I woke up to Lakota not being able to walk. Her hind legs had given out. She crawled forward by digging her front paws into the carpet. I tried to hold her. She wouldn't allow it. Maybe it was painful. I sat on the floor of the spare room with her for 2 hours before we could take her to the vet. I originally found her around 6 am. I tried so hard to comfort her; I don't know how successful I was. She had to be wildly afraid.

We wrapped her in a blanket when the time came. Carol drove, I held Lakota in my lap. I talked to her continuously, telling her how much we loved her, how much happiness she had given us, what a precious, special cat she was.

When she was on the vet's table her eyes were wide - until I kissed her head, patted her head - then she would close her eyes. Every single time.

And then she was gone.

Maka woke up on our bed last Saturday. I said "Is it time to get up Little Girl? Is it time to wake up Cutie Pie?" She walked up to my pillow and touched her nose to my nose.

Went downstairs, filled her water bowl, and gave her some food (which she ate a little of). I walked into the bathroom - when I came out there was blood all over the kitchen floor. The tumor had ruptured, blood was dripping out of her mouth and she was walking around. Until she settled down behind the water bowl and went down on her belly. She was obviously wildly afraid.

She fought hard when the vet tried to sedate her (thankfully the vet came to the house). Actually got away from her and walked a bit across the floor. I picked her up, hugged her and told her I loved her. Then I handed her back to the vet. In my mind I believe she was thinking "What the fuck are you doing? You are supposed to protect me from these people."

I was destroyed.

And then she was gone.

These scenes - Lakota and Maka -  are burned into my mind. I cannot shake them. They appear in my brain involuntarily and cause me great pain.

Do you understand why I never want to do this again?

Circumstances may dictate otherwise, but I pray to whatever fucking god there is that I never have to put another pet down.

For now we are existing on hopeful anticipation. Hopefully we find a couple of new precious cats this week. That could blast away some of the pain we are feeling.

Here's hoping.

Because Maka Is Not Here

The screen door on the porch is no longer latched because

Maka's not here.

I ate my supper silently last night,  no one snooped around my plate because

Maka's not here.

I opened the freezer without Maka at my heels to see what I was up to (she would wander into the kitchen every time we slid the freezer drawer out).

I emptied her food bowl and did not fill another.

I did my backwards slide step so I would not step on her eternally curious self, for no reason because

Maka's not here.

Little noises make me look back around, but Maka's not here.

I sit alone in my recliner because Maka's not here.

I automatically check the cat food inventory........for no reason.

I washed all her bowls - lately we put out bowls for cat food, cat paste, yogurt - anything to get her to eat.

Five or six bowls a day.

There was blood on the last bowl I put out, there was blood on her water bowl.

I will not be washing bowls today.

I left the mouse on the mouse pad next to my laptop on the kitchen table instead of putting it on top of the bookcase (she used to knock the mouse off the table) because

Maka's not here.

I went to bed alone, knowing I would wake up alone. Thought I might feel a little better. I don't.

As opposed to yesterday morning, when she spent 3 hours in bed with me, then walked the mattress to touch my nose with her nose.

I cried a lot yesterday. I cried hard this morning. Because

Maka's not here.

Maka was a little thing. A tiny life force who leaves a huge void in this house.

I am waiting for Carol to come home today. It will be so hard for her to walk into this empty house. My heart aches for her.

I hurt so badly

Carol hurts so badly

We love you, Maka.

We love you with all of our hearts.

The Pain of a Broken Heart

How deeply is one allowed to grieve the loss of a special, precious pet?

Whatever that limit is, I have already surpasssed it.

Maka

I had to put Maka down this morning.

She was a very precious, very special cat.

She was 18 years old; she lived with us for 15 years.

The moment is all the more odd because Carol is away on vacation. I am all alone. The silence is deafening.

I had many nicknames for her. Little One. Cutie Pie. Dollface. The one that was always in my head was The Little Conversationalist. She talked. A lot.

I used to have running conversations with her while Carol laughed.

Our very first special moment with Maka was the day we met her at the SPCA. Carol picked her up, I was standing behind Carol - Maka put her head down on Carol's shoulder and closed her eyes. Done deal.

She was an interactive cat, very much a part of our lives. She was smart, she was fun, she was adorable - she gave us so many moments of joy that made our lives softer.

She was diagnosed a month ago with a malignant tumor in her mouth. We thought we were going to lose her that day, so we were given a month's reprieve. Which we used to spoil her even more so than usual.

The tumor ruptured this morning and she was bleeding a lot. Just before I sat down at this laptop I noticed her blood on both my hands, on one of my socks and on my wedding ring. I will clean up soon but it is just a very odd feeling.

I have put down many pets in my life and I never, ever feel qualified to do it. I feel like I don't have the right. But this is the hard truth about loving pets; there is always pain and a tough decision at the end.

But I am not going to dwell on that.

I cannot overemphasize the happiness this tiny little thing, this precious little Maka brought into our lives.

Personally she felt like the pinnacle of pet love. Carol brought pets into my life and I am glad she did. It felt to me over the years that I learned more and my heart accepted more love as I went along.

Lakota and Maka were the two who absolutely owned my heart.

This is not all about me. Maka was Carol's cat. She used to sit next to Carol on the couch, either sleeping or harassing Carol as she crocheted. Carol had many conversations with her as well. Maka had a hard time eating over the last month - Carol started feeding her ice cream. Maka LOVED her ice cream and it was easier for her to eat. It gave Carol so much joy to see Maka chowing that ice cream.

It broke my heart and Carol's heart that she could not be here to say goodbye.

But again, the memories of all the times Maka made Carol smile, all the times she made Carol laugh, all the times she filled Carol's heart with love, all the times she got to hold and hug Maka - this is the preciousness Maka left behind.

I did something goofy today, something I don't normally do. The vet does a thing with paw imprints in some kind of clay. I gave them the go ahead and I am glad I did. They did it before they left and now I have this box with Maka's paw prints in the clay. I have held it a bunch of times already.

I am empty today. Carol is empty today. Maka is gone.

We will never forget how much she meant to us, how much she gave to us. Never.

We love you , Maka.