Vintage Photo: The Missing Kitty
This evening in the kitchen as we gathered for me to feed dinner to the Five I looked at them three times as they milled about and said, “Who’s missing?” Then I counted and all five were there. But it still felt as if there should be another black cat, but that cat was in the basement or in another room or something.
Then I realized who it was. September 19, 1996 was the anniversary of the day Kublai transitioned after his year-long illness and I’ve been thinking of him all day. I had considered adding a note to my daily photo, but decided I didn’t have a photo that suited what I was thinking about him today, one that really just focused on his eyes.
So after I fed them dinner I went to the box of really old photos and pulled this one from, I think, 1984, of him rolling around in the sun on the landing in one of those many apartments and looking at me through the railing. “Are You Looking at Me?”
To be honest, I went on a look-chase for another photo, which I did not find. I have so many, and all are in the same place, but still there are many to look through, even when I know the era. One of these days I’ll find it, and I’ll share it (I found the negative, and have an idea when I removed it from the envelope, but don’t have a negative scanner).
Yes, Kublai, I do see you. Thanks for visiting tonight. Say hello to a fellow black kitty Apollo when he gets there.
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8 thoughts on “Vintage Photo: The Missing Kitty”
What a great photo and memory. 11 years later I still find myself calling out loud the name of my black him/persian mix, Sasha who died of cancer at 8 years of age. I’m grateful they stay with us in our hearts!
Cooper, I’ve learned that when I look for them is if they are there or say their name “by accident”, they are there and it’s no accident. Love to you and Sasha.
Thoughtful and — dare I say it? — haunting piece, Bernadette. I love it when they come back for visits, even when it’s only a glimmer seen out of the corner of your eye.
Tammy, these September nights are magical, and I think that’s part of it. But that’s now he’s always come back to me, my little trickster–I feel his presence, but can’t see a thing. He’s still teaching me lessons.
Beautiful remembrances… the capture, the love… and the black boy that climbed to the next step.
What a wonderful though, Maru!