Darling Kallyope

Kallyope has joined our beloved Rosie wherever it is cats go.
I hope it's soft and cozy, with tuna cans a-plenty and lots of loving hands for stroking. As Kristopher put it, "I may have chosen her, but she was your cat." And she was. She was my companion. For many years we even shared a pillow. Throughout my pregnancies she seemed to fuss over me, going so far as to try to lick my growing belly. After Esmé was born, she retreated to the basement and spent Esmé's first three months in seclusion. I worried about her, but was often too sleep deprived and spread too thin to do anything about it. However once those three months were up, Kallyope returned to us with a stoic acceptance of what was going to be the new norm. And she treated our daughter with a love and understanding that far surpassed my expectations. You see, Kallyope didn't like noise and ruckus. She didn't like people getting in her face or handling her too much. So you could imagine what life for her was like with Esmé the toddler. Though we did our best to curb Esmé's boisterous expressions of kitty love, there was often little we could do. And not once, not once did Kallyope lash out at Esmé. She never hissed. Nothing. (Believe me, there were plenty of others who weren't so lucky.)
And I loved her all the more for it. And so did Esmé.

At Esmé's preschool Thanksgiving banquet she said she was most thankful for her cat.

And when told that Kallyope was with Rosie now, Esmé said, "But who are we going to pet?"

Esmé is handling this well. Taking this sad lesson in stride. The other day she told me, "I'll be sad when you die, Mommy."

I didn't know how to respond. I just hate that the world is a little less perfect for her now.

As it is for us all.


You are lost and gone forever. Dreadful sorry, Clementine...