(at the county fair)
Me: “OK, I told you we could see the rabbits before we go home. Here are the rabbits.”
Little Miss Thing, age 7: (squee) “They are so cute!”
Me: “Yes. Very cute.”
LMT: (incoherent giggly talking to rabbit noises)
LMT: “Daddy, do you think these rabbits are pettable?”
Me: “No, Honey. We can’t pet the rabbits.”
LMT: (pets rabbit)
LMT: “Nope. You were wrong.”
I’m not a cat person. I’m just not. So understand it’s not lightly that I say Baldur was my favorite cat ever. He was always hungry, perpetually cuddly, and loved everyone, even the dogs.
I’d never met a cat like him. He refused to run or hiss or react to the dogs. He stood his ground. Eventually, they stopped trying to chase him and just accepted him. He even ate with them and often curled up with them.
Every night we feed our cats a big scoop of dry food and then a can of wet food. Every night the other cats just stare disapprovingly at the dry food, waiting for the wet. Baldur was the only cat to immediately dive in and happily eat the dry food. He didnt wait, even though the wet food always came soon after. He just seemed genuinely grateful for any food, with no pretense.
I want to be like that. I want to calmly hold my ground in the face of giants. I want to love freely and without subtext. I want to always be grateful for the dry food. I think we’d all be happier if we loved more and spent less time waiting for the wet food.
Thank you, Baldur, for all the affection and companionship. I wish you nothing but endless ear scratches and happy hunting in that great mouse field in the sky.
May you ever curl up at Odin’s feet.
God speed, Baldur. God speed.