Bleak House
I’m not a good liar. In fact, I’m one of the unconvincing liars you’ll ever meet, so I always just default to the truth. Not because I’m morally superior to prevaricators, Lord knows, but rather because I’m excruciatingly less competent.
So here’s the truth: the atmosphere Chez Mad Dog is about as grim as it can be. We feel like Death eatin’ a cracker.
Excuse me for looking like I just lost my best friend.
Alex is, naturally, the hardest hit by Zeno’s untimely and violent demise, but none of us are exactly getting high on life this week. I certainly miss the little devil myself, but I have to say that the worst part of the last few days for me has been watching Alex suffer and being essentially powerless to ease his pain.
I haven’t experienced this particular kind of anguish since I was a kid, on occasions when I had to witness my sister suffer the disappointments and wounds of youth, situations that, as her elder sister and her self-appointed protector, I found almost unbearable. When it comes to these two people, I’d genuinely rather take the hit myself than have to sit by and see them hurt.
It is not surprising, therefore, that I have had to remind myself repeatedly to be still and allow there to be space in this house for grief. My instinct—which I know is all wrong—is to do a tap dance, buy tickets to a magic show, serve up ice cream and cake, ride around the house on a unicycle, stand on my head and spit wooden nickels…anything to distract Alex and make him feel better.
At a fundamental level, that kind of performance would only be a way to ease my own discomfort, when what Alex needs is just to be allowed to feel how he feels. Without having a clown show in his living room.
And how he feels is totally shitty, angry, shaken, and grief-stricken. Why? Because a mere 96 hours ago, he found the broken body of his cat in the street. If he didn’t feel completely awful, he’d be a monster. There’s just no way to experience this kind of loss that isn’t messy.
He’ll feel bad until he feels better. Meanwhile, I’ve buried my tap shoes in the back of the closet.
As my sister has said previously, the best thing for being sad is to learn something. What she didn’t say is that the second best thing for being sad is to buy another ball of Trekking:
I shall design a sock using this yarn and call it “Zeno.”
The third best thing for being sad is to start a summer sweater. I’m making Minnie from Rowan 39:
I foresee that this will be a good sweater for various auxiliary wedding events this summer.
I’m using Classic Silk in color 6916, Natural, which is knitting up like so:
Lovely, wouldn’t you say?
Working with Classic Silk is a wonderful experience. As a process knitter, I give it my most enthusiastic endorsement.
Back with more, and I hope greater cheer, on Friday…
February 28th, 2007 at 11:00 pm
How wise of you to let Alex grieve. It does go against all our tendencies as caregivers and eldest children, doesn’t it? There is no easy path through suffering.
March 1st, 2007 at 12:34 am
Poor Alex! I always know that our pets show more emotion than we can ever expect. Lots of hugs to him from our little warren.
=:8
March 1st, 2007 at 11:56 am
I’m very sorry about the loss of Zeno. It is hard to just let someone grieve, but that is what you have to do.
March 1st, 2007 at 3:04 pm
Oh, how awful. I don’t know what we’d do if we lost our Goldberry. You and Alex have my sympathies. And my envy: the Minnie is Classic Silk is going to be gorgeous.
March 1st, 2007 at 3:15 pm
I don’t know that I could restrain myself, as you have. I’m usually a cheerful person, and it hurts my heart when those I love are grieving. I lost a cat once who was only 8 months old. I’d only had him 6 of those 8 months, but he was such an awsome cat! Murphy met the same fate as Zeno. After about a week, my sister showed up at my house, and said “Come on, we’re getting you another cat!” I was incensed! How could she think I could replace my beloved kitty. But, I was doubly blessed in that Coco was the most spectacular, affectionate cat anyone could ever want. So, my advice is, go look at the shelter – Alex’s next friend might just be sitting there waiting for him to show up. Zeno will never be replaced, but having a kitty to distract from the horrible grief helps one heal.
March 1st, 2007 at 3:53 pm
Poor Alex! It is really horrible being reminded that even you (alone) can’t make your partner happy, no matter how much love there is between you. But this is good training for marriage, too – figure these things out ahead of time. I love your plan to design socks named after Zeno. And I love your new sweater!
March 1st, 2007 at 8:17 pm
Oh, that sweater is beutiful. It’s funny, because I don’t know that I would have looked twice at it in the magazine, and I’m pretty sure that I would not have concidered making it. But now that I see your progress and the detail of the pattern close up, and I think it is gorgous and suddenly want to make one!
March 1st, 2007 at 9:04 pm
Losing a pet is a truly grim and ugly time. I’m sure you’ve heard that the best medicine is to get out there and find another furry friend. It sounds so callous, as there is no replacing the beloved one, but it does help, really. A lot. Take the puppy person with you as she, obviously, needs the same medicine.
The sweater is so beautiful and I’m looking forward to seeing your progress on it!
March 1st, 2007 at 10:12 pm
It’s so hard to allow someone to feel what they feel, isn’t it? I, too, have that instinct to work hard, hard, harder to make them feel better.
On a brighter note, I really like that sweater. Should be gorgeous in the silk blend.
March 2nd, 2007 at 2:45 pm
Oh, my heart is breaking for Alex! I know how hard it is to lose a pet and I also know that no one, and I mean no one, not even his most beloved, can make it easier for him. Seeing the picture of Shelly and reading how much you want to help Alex only brings home how much all of you miss Zeno. I think a sock pattern is a wonderful tribute to him; I have just the skein of sock yarn waiting for the pattern!
March 2nd, 2007 at 7:35 pm
I’m really sorry to learn that Alex was the one to find Zeno – that must make it even more painful. But, you’re right, it’s best to let him grieve, as hard as it may be for you to watch. This reminds me how important it is to appreciate our fuzzy friends fully while they are with us – as I’m sure you and Alex did with Zeno.
March 2nd, 2007 at 8:02 pm
The sweater is beyond lovely. Once again, I’m so sorry about Zeno.