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 By Kaycee Nilson July 7, 2010 The winter of 2010 was brutal all across the country. Snow fell in parts of America where people had no recollection of when snow last fell, much less what snow looked like. February 2010 was especially hard on me. When I first started contributing to UK, my second article was called “Anthony Stewart, Ruler Of The Universe.” It was written in honor of our cat, Stewie. So much love and attention he and I shared with one another that February sucked @ss. It was a terrible Tuesday; the snow had been falling since early morning. A lot of trees in our neighborhood snapped large limbs under the weight of the snow. Stewie came inside and ate his food like he had done every morning since he entered my life. After eating, Stew wanted to go out into the garage. To be honest, it was the only room in our house that he could go and get some peace and quiet from our other three cats that we share our home with. A scant thirty minutes later, I went out into the garage to have a smoke and to sit with Stew for a bit and scratch the old man’s head and tell him how much I love him. That was a daily occurrence for him and me. But that morning was different. Very different and would change my life for the rest of the year and possibly may have driven me over the edge of reason at times. I’m not stupid, no one can live to be past 40 and be stupid. I know that at any given moment in time, a living thing dies. But when it’s a living thing you have shared so much with, well my friends, it hurts and hurts bad. Stewie had been in my life while I battled Ovarian Cancer. When I underwent Chemotherapy and Radiation, it was Stew that would take afternoon naps with me while he curled himself into a ball and press into my abdomen and believe it or not, it took the pressure off to the point of allowing me to get some much needed rest. During this time, our youngest child wasn’t even a full year old. So the pressure of raising three kids, the youngest still in diapers and not walking, really stressed me to the point of not being able to focus on relaxing and resting so I could regain my strength. So when I walked out into the garage on February 5, and I found my Stewie laying on top of his blanket and looking like he was sleeping. It killed me when I realized that he wasn’t sleeping, but he had passed away. I still get misty when I see his picture or see his food bowl that I have put up. My kids think I’m crazy (of course I’m crazy! I’ve been in therapy for years and on medications for bi-polar! DUH!) My friends are convinced I’ve lost it. (I never had it to begin with to lose it!) And for some time now, I have been wallowing in the pits of self-despair and pity. I do love our three other felines that are in our lives, Amy (1 year old), Killer (10 month old), and Forrest (age is unknown, we tricked him into the house back in 2007 during a freeze). But no matter what their individual personalities are, they just are not Stew and they simply don’t know what Stew did for me. Plus Amy snores when she naps. Killer won’t cuddle at all and we are lucky if we see Forrest more in the day than just at feeding times. No other cat could be Stewart. Just like no other cat could be Amy, Killer, Forrest, Miles, Pumpkin, Kitten, Lotus or any of the other dozen or so that have passed through our house for short periods of time like we are a weigh station for cats on their way throughout the world. There will always and only be one Anthony Stewart, and in my eyes, he will always be “Ruler Of The Universe.” ------------ About the author: Kaycee Nilson is a long time contributor to UK and other sites as well. Along with writing, she enjoys spending time with her family.
Her website containing her writings can be viewed at http://www.kayceenilson.com
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