Stacy Horn

A friend of mine just lost her cat to lymphoma. I’m sure I don’t have to explain to any pet owner what she is feeling right now. They so insinuate themselves into our lives, don’t they? Weirdly, their absence is felt more than when we lose people. Maybe because, unlike people, they are always there, even if only quietly in the background, curled up in a ball nearby. And then they’re not. It’s awful.

Then all you have left is just the remnants of them. The litterbox, the food bowls. It feels like a betrayal to get rid of them, like you’re getting rid of the cat, like they’re just something to clean up. Like they didn’t mean everything.

My cat Buddy has lymphoma. He was first diagnosed on January 10, 2010, so he has passed the two year mark. He’d been showing symptoms for a year before that though, and we were trying everything until we finally did an ultrasound and then a biopsy.

He’s fine today. I try not to think beyond that. You hang in there little dude.

I’ve got this on-going thread in the book I’ve just finished up about singing, where I describe walking back and forth on 11th Street, going to and from choir practice. I write about the different seasons, what I see, who lived on 11th Street, the one cemetery I pass by. I’m so lucky to have a particularly beautiful route to choir.

Yesterday, I took a picture of this tree on the corner of 11th and 5th Avenue. Beautiful, isn’t it? 11th Street is amazingly thick with trees and greenery.

I’ve been fact-checking for weeks, and I’m down to the last chapters, which I’m going to try to finish today. These two chapters focus on the composers Morten Lauridsen and Eric Whitacre, and, because it’s me, life and death.

Starting at about 5:30 in the morning, an hour before their feeding time, Buddy starts doing things to get me to get up earlier and feed him sooner. These things include: shredding paper, eating books, knocking over books, knocking over anything I was stupid enough to leave out on the desk the night before, batting me in the face with his paw, nails extended, and eating plants.

The eating plants one is pretty sure-fire, because he always throws up the leaves later, and that can’t be good for his stomach. This also means it’s time to trim back the plant. Normally it’s hanging in the window out of his reach.

This strategy has been so successful over time that I now feed them at 6:30 in the morning instead of at 7:30, and 4:30 in the afternoon instead of around 7:30 at night. And, because their dinner was so early, they start bugging me again later in the evening and I’ve added a later-evening-snack meal! I am so owned.

I think I have posted about this before. Oh no. I’m the 21st century equivalent of the person who tells the same story over and over again.

Sundays are usually the most depressing day of the week, but for some unknown reason I feel depressed today, on a Saturday, and that’s after seeing Cabin in the Woods! It makes no sense. (Cabin in the Woods: Not great, but funny, entertaining, a fine movie for a Saturday afternoon.)

What will cheer me up? Lots of cheese? Because I have some. What do you do when you’re having one of those days, when you’re feeling lousy for no good reason, but nonetheless, there you are?

I passed by this photo shoot on my way to the movies. The girl on the left in the yellow heels is the subject.

Although my day began in the most unpleasant manner possible. My toilet was clogged, I didn’t know how to fix it, but I googled how, ran to the hardware store, came home, and voila! I felt tremendously elated at the time. Like I’d conquered some incredibly difficult task. Mwah-ha! You did not win, toilet! Yeah, try and wreck my morning. I’m watching you.

I’m going out for a walk and to run errands. I have a feeling I will be drawn back to the basement where they are searching for Etan Patz. I read that the Patz family, in addition to never moving (so their son, if alive, could find his way home) kept the same message on their answering machine. So sad.

Anyway. I took this the other day for my “Dress I Can’t Possess” series, except I’d have to go back in time to possess this one. It’s a child’s dress. There’s another in the window, just as pretty, but this is astounding, isn’t it? Lucky little girl who gets to wear this dress.