It's All in Perspective

This past Tuesday, my father called me with some unfortunate news. Sundance, the love of my life and constant feline companion for 12 years, passed away during his retirement at the family farm. Sundance was about 12 pounds of orange fluffy love with lots of character. I know Sundance was a special cat and touched many people's lived besides mine as the memories rolled in on facebook comments: eating plants, cat fights (too many to count), Lauren's first and only court appearance to date, the trailer house shenanigans, oh the list is endless.

Kelly, Nicole and I picked out Sundance from the Humane Society in Bozeman in July after we graduated high school. I remember the afternoon like it was yesterday - how I asked which cat had been there the longest (they pointed to his cage). I opened his door, and he crawled right up my arm and curled up around my neck. It was love at first sight. He came directly home with me and then hid under the bed for two days. I think we were a match made in Heaven - tough, stubborn, independent - wait . . . am I talking about Sundance or myself? Anyways, we were two of a kind from the start. He was by my side to get me through everything in life, even my time in Haiti.

Yes, even when I think of Haiti, I think of Sundance. One afternoon when I lived there, I was having a very bad day. I finished teaching, went to my room and laid down on my bed and cried. And I cried. I was mad, frustrated, full of emotion. All of a sudden, my bed moved - it felt as if a cat had just jumped on my bed. Cat?!? There weren't any cats in my bedroom at the time. I sat straight up and yelled Sundance. Of course, he was not there. However, in that moment, I knew he was thinking of me and trying to console me from afar as he had done many times before. We were connected with each other. He was always there to sit on my lap or lay on my chest to try to cheer me up when life threw me a curve ball. I am really going to miss my little buddy. There will never be another Sundance.