4 Roses Under A Tulip Tree

Some people say I'm mentally challenged.

Some people say I'm emotionally challenged.

Some people say I'm too emotional, too sensitive.

Well, even if they're right, I make no apologies for any of my characteristics or traits. It is who I am and I am surprised by the few number of close friends I have that they tolerate this in me, but they do, stick by me, have my back. And I have a lot of emotional baggage.

In the early morning hours of October 6, 2009, everything in my life changed and I still carry those scars from that morning on my soul and on my heart.

I had rescued Maggie the Cat from a tree in front of my rental house on High Street. The fire department came and helped me get her down out of the tree. She immediately "adopted" me as her Mama and was by my side constantly. I could hear her playing at night, batting a pop bottle lid around on the linoleum floor.

I had other babies I had rescued but she soon blended in with the rest of the family.

I went to bed early on October 6, 2009 and tossed and turned because I had just been fired from a job that I loved. Maggie was sleeping on my chest, nuzzled on my neck. I let my emotions and anger get the best of me and I jumped out of bed and staggered against the recliner sitting by the bed, where Beanie, my oldest baby, was sleeping. The recliner tilted a little bit and my anger must have frightened Maggie, because she jumped under the recliner and it fell on her little body.

My heart almost stopped and I pulled her out from under the chair, but it was too late, she died in my arms. I cradled her in one of my quilts and placed her on the couch. I called a friend of mine and she took Maggie to hold her for me until I could find a place to bury her.

One minute she was nuzzling my neck, all warm and cozy and loving and the next minute she was gone.

All these years, that memory has not been erased. It shattered my heart and soul and forever emotionally damaged me. I could not, and still can't, relieve myself of the guilt that I caused her death. That is why I picked a spot out for her under a tulip tree in a pet cemetery, in a beautiful setting I know she would have loved to have jumped and played in, but she was never going to get to do that.

Another friend of mine made Maggie a little wooden casket and I put some of her favorite toys in it with her = the pop bottle lid she loved to play with on the floor and I wrapped her tiny casket in one of my jackets and wrapped the arms around her. From that day forward, after having put the dirt on top of her grave, my heart and soul would never be the same. All these years later, I am still damaged goods.

The night I went over to my friend's house to pick up Maggie in her tiny casket, for burial the next day, a lady passing by the open window of my car, said "there is this baby who looks to be starving, looks like he has been in a fight" = she handed him to me, a big orange and white cat who nuzzled against my chest and started to purr loudly. I took him home, called him Darby. Maggie sent him to me, absolutely. I was in the right place at the right time.

Darby, the night I rescued him.

I went on and continued to rescue strays = my heart wasn't in it, but I did it to save their lives and I would do it again in a heartbeat. The next August, Beanie passed away at home, in the exact same spot where Maggie had died.

This is Beanie with Maggie.

To say I am emotionally damaged would be an understatement. I have always been very emotional, very sensitive, but Maggie's death and my part in it damaged my very heart and soul and continues to do so today.

I ordered a wooden cross with Maggie's name on it, so her grave would be recognizable when I visited it. That is where I want to be, my ashes scattered on her grave, to protect her. I saved her once, but couldn't save her twice. Her spirit has found a place in my heart. My grief for her is still very present. Her memory has not faded.

She will always be the little cat in the tree, Maggie the cat who loved to play with a pop bottle lid and nuzzle my neck, all the while stealing my heart.

My beloved baby Maggie, I miss you so.