I cleaned my closet this weekend

The closet was Tigger's special place. I couldn't hang clothes in one
third of my closet because Tigger would sleep behind them and they
would get covered in cat hair. I smiled remembering the battle of the
closet. The strategically placed shoe boxes so she wouldn't get on
the shelf and get cat hair on the clothes hanging on the second rung.
The cat bed I bought her so she wouldn't pull clothes off the hangers
so she could lay on them. I did win that one. She loved her cat
bed. But I had to put the step stool in front of it so Tank would not
pounce on her when she was sleeping. The cat bed that she always
managed to move to be underneath clothes. The clothes that I gave up
on and hung on the lower rung because if she didn't have clothes to
hide behind she would find a way to get on the shelf. Especially
the time I decided enough was enough and closed the closet door and
put a chair in front so she couldn't open the folding door. I came
home that evening to a strategically placed poop right in front of the
closet. I remebered the time we had guests and they called me
frantically at work saying they couldn't find Tigger and she might
have gotten out. I told them to look in my closet. They said they
had. I said look again. She was on the very very top shelf no doubt
quietly snickering.

I vacuumed and washed some of the clothes. Some were too far gone and
I threw them away. Last night I hung up clothes from the laundry and
put some clothes on the previously out of limits rung.

I had made arrangements to give away Tigger's cat tree. But when the
day came to put it in the truck I couldn't do it. It still sits in
the kitchen and sometimes out of the corner of my eye I see her
sitting there. Tank must see her too because he, who is the great
lover and destroyer of cat trees, has not gotten on it or near it.

On Mar 23, 7:03*am, AlisonT wrote:
The closet was Tigger's special place. *I couldn't hang clothes in one
third of my closet because Tigger would sleep behind them and they
would get covered in cat hair. *I smiled remembering the battle of the
closet. *The strategically placed shoe boxes so she wouldn't get on
the shelf and get cat hair on the clothes hanging on the second rung.
The cat bed I bought her so she wouldn't pull clothes off the hangers
so she could lay on them. *I did win that one. *She loved her cat
bed. *But I had to put the step stool in front of it so Tank would not
pounce on her when she was sleeping. *The cat bed that she always
managed to move to be underneath clothes. *The clothes that I gave up
on and hung on the lower rung because if she didn't have clothes to
hide behind she would find a way to get on the shelf. * *Especially
the time I decided enough was enough and closed the closet door and
put a chair in front so she couldn't open the folding door. *I came
home that evening to a strategically placed poop right in front of the
closet. *I remebered the time we had guests and they called me
frantically at work saying they couldn't find Tigger and she might
have gotten out. *I told them to look in my closet. * They said they
had. *I said look again. *She was on the very very top shelf no doubt
quietly snickering.

I vacuumed and washed some of the clothes. *Some were too far gone and
I threw them away. *Last night I hung up clothes from the laundry and
put some clothes on the previously out of limits rung.

I had made arrangements to give away Tigger's cat tree. *But when the
day came to put it in the truck I couldn't do it. *It still sits in
the kitchen and sometimes out of the corner of my eye I see her
sitting there. *Tank must see her too because he, who is the great
lover and destroyer of cat trees, has not gotten on it or near it.

A lovely rememberance. I still have Snowball's (d*g/RB1995) food dish.
Feather (catRB2002) ate out of it and now WooToo, cat, eats out of it.
Somekitty will use that cat tree and you will remember Tigger.

--
Will in New Haven

"AlisonT" wrote in message
...
The closet was Tigger's special place. I couldn't hang clothes in one
third of my closet because Tigger would sleep behind them and they
would get covered in cat hair. I smiled remembering the battle of the
closet. The strategically placed shoe boxes so she wouldn't get on
the shelf and get cat hair on the clothes hanging on the second rung.
The cat bed I bought her so she wouldn't pull clothes off the hangers
so she could lay on them. I did win that one. She loved her cat
bed. But I had to put the step stool in front of it so Tank would not
pounce on her when she was sleeping. The cat bed that she always
managed to move to be underneath clothes. The clothes that I gave up
on and hung on the lower rung because if she didn't have clothes to
hide behind she would find a way to get on the shelf. Especially
the time I decided enough was enough and closed the closet door and
put a chair in front so she couldn't open the folding door. I came
home that evening to a strategically placed poop right in front of the
closet. I remebered the time we had guests and they called me
frantically at work saying they couldn't find Tigger and she might
have gotten out. I told them to look in my closet. They said they
had. I said look again. She was on the very very top shelf no doubt
quietly snickering.

I vacuumed and washed some of the clothes. Some were too far gone and
I threw them away. Last night I hung up clothes from the laundry and
put some clothes on the previously out of limits rung.

I had made arrangements to give away Tigger's cat tree. But when the
day came to put it in the truck I couldn't do it. It still sits in
the kitchen and sometimes out of the corner of my eye I see her
sitting there. Tank must see her too because he, who is the great
lover and destroyer of cat trees, has not gotten on it or near it.


This must have been hard for you. Continuing purrs.


--
Theresa and Dante

Stinky Forever: http://pets.webshots.com/album/125591586JWEFwh

This must have been hard for you. *Continuing purrs.

Actually it was kind of healing. I have so many good memories of
Tigger. I'm trying to focus on them. She had quite a personality.

sweet memories and the gentle passing of time and moving on, it is in fact
these things that make us human and them worth loving, Lee
"AlisonT" wrote in message
...
The closet was Tigger's special place. I couldn't hang clothes in one
third of my closet because Tigger would sleep behind them and they
would get covered in cat hair. I smiled remembering the battle of the
closet. The strategically placed shoe boxes so she wouldn't get on
the shelf and get cat hair on the clothes hanging on the second rung.
The cat bed I bought her so she wouldn't pull clothes off the hangers
so she could lay on them. I did win that one. She loved her cat
bed. But I had to put the step stool in front of it so Tank would not
pounce on her when she was sleeping. The cat bed that she always
managed to move to be underneath clothes. The clothes that I gave up
on and hung on the lower rung because if she didn't have clothes to
hide behind she would find a way to get on the shelf. Especially
the time I decided enough was enough and closed the closet door and
put a chair in front so she couldn't open the folding door. I came
home that evening to a strategically placed poop right in front of the
closet. I remebered the time we had guests and they called me
frantically at work saying they couldn't find Tigger and she might
have gotten out. I told them to look in my closet. They said they
had. I said look again. She was on the very very top shelf no doubt
quietly snickering.

I vacuumed and washed some of the clothes. Some were too far gone and
I threw them away. Last night I hung up clothes from the laundry and
put some clothes on the previously out of limits rung.

I had made arrangements to give away Tigger's cat tree. But when the
day came to put it in the truck I couldn't do it. It still sits in
the kitchen and sometimes out of the corner of my eye I see her
sitting there. Tank must see her too because he, who is the great
lover and destroyer of cat trees, has not gotten on it or near it.

"AlisonT" wrote in message
...
The closet was Tigger's special place. I couldn't hang clothes in one
third of my closet because Tigger would sleep behind them and they
would get covered in cat hair. I smiled remembering the battle of the
closet. The strategically placed shoe boxes so she wouldn't get on
the shelf and get cat hair on the clothes hanging on the second rung.
The cat bed I bought her so she wouldn't pull clothes off the hangers
so she could lay on them. I did win that one. She loved her cat
bed. But I had to put the step stool in front of it so Tank would not
pounce on her when she was sleeping. The cat bed that she always
managed to move to be underneath clothes. The clothes that I gave up
on and hung on the lower rung because if she didn't have clothes to
hide behind she would find a way to get on the shelf. Especially
the time I decided enough was enough and closed the closet door and
put a chair in front so she couldn't open the folding door. I came
home that evening to a strategically placed poop right in front of the
closet. I remebered the time we had guests and they called me
frantically at work saying they couldn't find Tigger and she might
have gotten out. I told them to look in my closet. They said they
had. I said look again. She was on the very very top shelf no doubt
quietly snickering.

I vacuumed and washed some of the clothes. Some were too far gone and
I threw them away. Last night I hung up clothes from the laundry and
put some clothes on the previously out of limits rung.

I had made arrangements to give away Tigger's cat tree. But when the
day came to put it in the truck I couldn't do it. It still sits in
the kitchen and sometimes out of the corner of my eye I see her
sitting there. Tank must see her too because he, who is the great
lover and destroyer of cat trees, has not gotten on it or near it.

(((((((Allison)))))))))


--

Joy

No amount of time can erase the memory of a good cat, and no amount of
masking tape can ever totally remove his fur from your couch. - Leo Dworken

Like I said in another thread, what do people do who don't have memories.
"Stormmee" wrote in message
...
sweet memories and the gentle passing of time and moving on, it is in fact
these things that make us human and them worth loving, Lee
"AlisonT" wrote in message
...
The closet was Tigger's special place. I couldn't hang clothes in one
third of my closet because Tigger would sleep behind them and they
would get covered in cat hair. I smiled remembering the battle of the
closet. The strategically placed shoe boxes so she wouldn't get on
the shelf and get cat hair on the clothes hanging on the second rung.
The cat bed I bought her so she wouldn't pull clothes off the hangers
so she could lay on them. I did win that one. She loved her cat
bed. But I had to put the step stool in front of it so Tank would not
pounce on her when she was sleeping. The cat bed that she always
managed to move to be underneath clothes. The clothes that I gave up
on and hung on the lower rung because if she didn't have clothes to
hide behind she would find a way to get on the shelf. Especially
the time I decided enough was enough and closed the closet door and
put a chair in front so she couldn't open the folding door. I came
home that evening to a strategically placed poop right in front of the
closet. I remebered the time we had guests and they called me
frantically at work saying they couldn't find Tigger and she might
have gotten out. I told them to look in my closet. They said they
had. I said look again. She was on the very very top shelf no doubt
quietly snickering.

I vacuumed and washed some of the clothes. Some were too far gone and
I threw them away. Last night I hung up clothes from the laundry and
put some clothes on the previously out of limits rung.

I had made arrangements to give away Tigger's cat tree. But when the
day came to put it in the truck I couldn't do it. It still sits in
the kitchen and sometimes out of the corner of my eye I see her
sitting there. Tank must see her too because he, who is the great
lover and destroyer of cat trees, has not gotten on it or near it.

AlisonT wrote:
The closet was Tigger's special place. I couldn't hang clothes in one
third of my closet because Tigger would sleep behind them and they
would get covered in cat hair. I smiled remembering the battle of the
closet.

Reminds me of the shirt. The shirt that I'd hung out on the balcony to
dry, and that Nikki pulled down from the hanger and onto her chair,
where she used to sun herself. Then she suddenly passed away, but the
shirt lay there, covered in her hair. I didn't have the heart to take it
away or wash it for months. But then I moved house, and in that
commotion, the hairy shirt went into the wash.

But as long as the shirt was there, I smiled every time I saw it,
because it reminded me of how Nikki would appropriate every bit of
clothing she could lay her paws on, for her own personal catbed.

--
Marina, Miranda and Caliban.
In loving memory of Frank and Nikki.

"AlisonT" wrote in message
...


This must have been hard for you. Continuing purrs.

Actually it was kind of healing. I have so many good memories of
Tigger. I'm trying to focus on them. She had quite a personality.

*********************

I can see how that would be cathartic. I'm glad you're focusing on the good
memories. Thank you for sharing this with us.

Jill

AlisonT wrote:
The closet was Tigger's special place. I couldn't hang clothes in one
third of my closet because Tigger would sleep behind them and they
would get covered in cat hair. I smiled remembering the battle of the
closet. snip


Lots and lots of purrs and hugs,
Polonca and Soncek