The cat-shaped hole in my head

[ornoth]

It’s been a couple weeks since the Puggle left home, and I’m pretty well adjusted. I think the main source of my anxiety was the thought of him suffering, and not knowing what I could do for him. But now he’s beyond all that. The high drama of his impending death is over, and it’s just a question of adjusting to his absence as a known, unchangeable fact.

However, before my memory of the Puggle fades, I want to take a moment and record some of the wonderful memories he gave me. Some of these are one-time events, and some are just the gifts he gave me every day. I know these probably won’t mean much to you, but I wanted to save them here for future reference, to serve as a remembrance of his character and the companionship he provided.

So here’s the list.

Puggie Nose Leather (“Puggie knows leather”) His habit of curling up under the covers and going to sleep behind my knee, with his head on my calf His habit of pawing at the blanket to let me know he wanted to get under the covers His amusing habit of flossing every day using the cord on the blinds How he’d often jump onto my lap while I was sitting at the computer, then putting his front paws on my shoulder, asking to be picked up and given a Huggle How he’d curl up in the crook of my arm while I was sitting up in bed reading The evening ritual of him standing on my chest to get his kitty massage after I climbed into bed How he’d invariably sabotage any attempt to make the bed Our occasional walks in the lobby: his ”constitutionals“ How those walks would usually end with him running back to our door after someone in the building spooked him The Puggle Skywalk between the countertop and the kitchen table in the Fenway apartment The total destruction of the door frames in the Fenway apartment The Kitty Crazies, which in the Fenway apartment resulted in him clutching the door frame, suspended four feet off the ground His fuzzy Puggle toes ”Here comes Puggle Claws, here comes Puggle Claws, right down Puggle Claws Lane. He’s a Puggle ’cos he’s got Puggle claws and a little Pug brain…“ Sleeping inside a kick drum… amazing His completely predictable hissing at any women who visited

The time he cleaned my bicycle chain for me and got grease all over his face Climbing through all the kitchen cabinets When I built a little pagoda that allowed him to jump all the way up into the top shelf in the bedroom closet His annoying habit of leaving the bathroom door open after he came in and left while I was showering ”Reach out… touch face.“ ”It’s not sex unless the Puggle is watching.“ Always leaving one of the kitchen barstool chairs pulled partway out so that he could jump up onto the kitchen counter Coming home after a weekend away and having to have extended love-fests on the bed before anything else His catching a mouse at the Fenway apartment and absolutely having no idea what to do with it His Puggie pantaloons Wanton shredding of cardboard boxes, and tenderizing them beforehand for him with my Benchmade pocket knife Strength-sapping sunbeams His habit of sleeping on the bed above (and sometimes atop) one’s head Waking up in the morning with the Puggle in the same position as me—on his side, with his body under the covers and his head on the pillow, face-to-face with me His climbing up into kitchen cabinet and lying down after I closed the glass doors behind him His taking it upon himself to wash my hair for me back when I had long hair The rising trill (known as ”mipping“) that he’d make when asking a question or jumping up on the bed

Thank you, Puggle. For these, and for everything.

Edited additions:

How he’s tell you he'd had enough play by giving you a “nibble”: gently clomping down on you with his teeth, as if to say “I could take a piece out of you if I really wanted, so simmer down, rude boy…” And if you didn’t simmer down, he’d give you “the bunny hop”: grabbing you with his front paws and kicking with his legs and his rear claws out.

“What kinda cat is he? He's an Eviscerator!” “Cute, cute little Puggie. I wanna make him stay up all night…” His uncanny ability to elude veterinary staff; twice he got away from them and out of the back room, once screaming all the way down the hallway, into the waiting area, and into a corner underneath a table, requiring us to move all their furniture to get him out!