Rosenbush Café

Surreal Days for Pink Martini

My feline companion, Pink Martini died earlier today at an area veterinary hospital of renal failure. Pink is pictured looking at the destruction from the April 27th, 2011 tornado in Tuscaloosa. Pink, named for the Seattle-based music group that fronts singer China Forbes, was the third born of six to Cous Cous LaPress during the morning of April 30, 2006. In August, Pink’s brother, Tippy Van Helsing died of feline leukemia.

Pink is survived by his mother and four sisters, dubbed the femme fatale felines of PinkToo, ShyGirl, Kitja and Katja.

After receiving the news – I had left Pink with the doctor, who was trying to open a block urethra, after contracting a kidney infection over the weekend – I returned to the house where the sisters are housed in an exterior dwelling.

Instinctively, they knew he was ill when I transported Pink into the carrier early today. When I began talking about him they mewed in a manner that was profound and chilling. Tears flowed freely and one suspects later tonight the deluge will occur. Pink slept on our bed for five years and was one of those sweet souls that combined innocence and naiveté equally and was beside me when I wrote many of what I consider my best essays.

There are individuals who do not believe in animal souls; I am not one of those non-believers.

Every living being has an essence that defines it amongst the innumerable animate forms populating this planet.

Not trying to convince anyone that bee and ladybug spirits are more important than theirs. I know my soul has value; however, the importance of the bees, trees or weak of knees should never be ignored. My beliefs are based on cosmic ideology and consequently I no longer fear the inevitability of death, and I sincerely hope, and expect, a few others to accept a living, breathing, caring and non violent solution to tomorrow’s sunrise.

Inspirit of life is infinitesimal – we don’t see grass grow but it does – and like a cool breeze in spring it caresses other spirits into a planetary eco-dance. Everyday is the new year. Every nanosecond is delightful, leading to milliseconds and days pass like shadows of eagles to soar above the madness.

There is no year ending tonight. Dates are arbitrarily subjective little proto-matter and as such matter less. As a sentient thinker, I place emphasis on life daily rather than embrace the death and despair. Pink was fortunate to have a home and love and an opportunity to explore metempsychosis; I believe he was either a first time reborn or second but in my world, he will return, not to me, but to another caring carbon baser.

Goddesses of the Feline Soul, until we meet again, bless you Pink, bless you.