Posted in Indoor Musings, Window Views


I haven’t had much reason to mention my cat Kira here as she was an indoor only cat, so she wasn’t even a visitor in our garden.  Still, whether it’s an excuse my mind has come up with to write about her or not, in one small way you share something in common with her.  She also has seen my window views, though Kira saw them first hand on a different sort of looking glass–the actual window. 

When we moved into our home last year, her basket was placed by the sunny south facing window in our office because that’s a room we spend a lot of time in, and given her advanced age, she was spending a lot of time in her basket even though she’d sometimes nap elsewhere.  Since it’s an older home, it has a lower profile than modern windows that tend to not go below an average human standing waistline unless they are sliding glass or French style patio doors.  More glass overall for the sun to shine through and warm her aging bones.

Every office window view I’ve posted so far, that’s what she was seeing as well as she soaked up the sun, and her eyes and sometimes head would dart about watching birds, dragonflies, squirrels, and all the other creatures that visit here.  Sometimes, though, she was just snoozing too.

I already miss you, my pushy friend.
Kira on May 15th this year.

Two days ago, Kira’s health took a steep dive where before it had been in a gentle decline over the last handful of years.  We spent as much time with her as we could because we had a feeling where this might be going, as she had just turned 20 years old a few weeks earlier in the month. Last night the vet confirmed our fears, and we had to make that terrible decision to “ease her suffering”, as it is often put.

She had rapidly lost mobility and had also developed incontinence in those two days.  Yesterday morning she stopped eating even the teeth cleaning treats I normally have to give to her one at a time so she actually chews them all instead of scooping them up with her tongue and barely chewing before swallowing.

The joke is she only cared about the cheese, and would bite and lick it off, ignoring the meat.
Cats do haz cheeseburgrs.

Her life story doesn’t have much to do with gardens, but I will tell it eventually somewhere it better fits.

I had written out this huge post about my history with her over the course of the last 19 years since she came into my life.  Yet I can’t justify posting the whole darn thing.  I want to at least mention the fact that she was a rescue with a very rough kittenhood, so every year she added to her life never ceased to amaze me.

One friend I know recently wrote upon hearing the news, “A rough start, but a lifetime of love,” and although many friends have expressed similar sentiments, I couldn’t better sum up better than he did, so I’m stealing it.  I am grateful to the support I have already received, and feel lucky to know the folks I have come to know over time, and hope to continue to do so for many more years.

I see all. Nothing escapes me.
I had a table with captain chairs. The boys sat on one toward the table, while she instead looked outward, as if surveying her kingdom.

I’m glad my path crossed with Kira’s, and I’m grateful for our many days and nights of adventures together.  She pressed on with me for just over 19 more years since we met.  I can’t help but feel the weight of the fact that we have lived together for most of my adult life.  I’d like to think we helped each other get through the bad times of our pasts too.  She is a long term friend I will cherish knowing forever, and laugh when I recall the good times, while I let the few bad times slip away.

As much as she wasn’t directly related to my garden, each time I look out my office window, I will think of her sunning herself in her basket, and smile.  Maybe when you see one of my office window views, now you will too.

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