As some of you may remember, when my brother Nerissa started this blog a number of years ago, I was one of several cats. There were twelve of us at one point. Twelve. TWELVE!
But now, there is only one.
Late Sunday night, while being held in Peepers' arms, my brother Rushton Tapio left this world for Heaven. He's now up there with Nissy and Anderson, and Mason, and... Well he's up in Heaven with all my fur-sibs who have gone before him.
As you can imagine, our house is a pretty sad house right now. Sad and empty, and lonely, too.
But our loss is Heaven's gain, for I'm bettin' Rushy is havin' a wonderful time up there, meetin' up with fur-sibs he hasn't seen in years. Nissy has probably already told him where he can get his paws on the best nip. Bet there are whole big fields of the stuff growin' year 'round. And butterflies! My sister Constance loved chasin' butterflies, and I wouldn't be surprised if she has already taken Rushy on a butterfly chasin' expedition. Chasing 'em through one of Nissy's catnip fields, perhaps? What fun they must be having.
But the peeps and I, of course, are missing him terribly.
And we're very, very sad.
Even if I did tease Rushy a bit on my blog, I stilled loved him lots. After all, he was my brother.
I've never been an only cat before, you know. At least not since I came to live with the peeps back in 2008. I've always had lots of fur-sibs about.
Now I am all alone. It's just me.
And that, my friends, is not all it's cut out to be.
Now, when the peeps need a cat to cuddle, it's all on me.
Now, when the peeps need a cat to tickle, it's all on me.
NOW, when the peeps need a cat to smother in kisses and harass to no end, it's all on me.
LITERALLY. It's LITERALLY all on me. Last night, I was cuddled and smothered in kisses and all those smotherin' kisses were ALL. ON. ME.
And now, when someone knocks over a dish of kibble and said kibble ends up scattered all over the kitchen floor...
NOW, there's no one to blame...
I'm tellin' ya, this sucks the big one, for sure. I tried blamin' Peep #2 for the spilt kibble incident, but Peep #1 wasn't buyin' it for an instant, as apparently, when said event occurred, Peep #2 was still up in bed and therefore could not possibly have spilled said kibble all over the floor.
Or so the peep said.
This, my friends, is not an ideal situation. It's not an ideal situation at all! I'm gonna have to go out and find myself a fur-sib or two.
Either that, or confine my mischief makin' to when both peeps are up and awake.
However for now, I'm gonna just sit here and think about Rushton for a bit, and remember what a wonderful brother he was. I was lucky to have him, you know. I was very lucky, indeed.