Years ago, in the open plan office I worked in, I heard the end snip-it of a conversation across the office. I was “Huh? What’s that?” It was explained to me. When you were a kid and you come home from school and the dog Roger the Ramjet wasn’t there to greet you. (to be clear, we didn’t have a dog, so I just picked a name at random.)
And mum says “Roger went to the farm to live, where there’s a big paddock to run around in with lots of fences and trees to pee on.
Now I didn’t know this but, apparently, it’s a code for mum took Roger to the vet to be put down while you were at school and you wouldn’t be upset.
This might be an older mentality than these days, but as I’m contemplating when it’s time to call the vet for Jamima I’m thinking there is no Roger Ramjet version for cats.
I guess there are pillows in heaven with lots of food options and no vacuum cleaners or children to pester them. It’s not a great day, but I don’t want her to suffer and while her getting to the Kitty litter is becoming a problem, I’d rather know I’ll be there holding her telling hear how much she has meant to me.
How boyfriends and housemates have come and gone, yet she has still been there and it’s okay for her to sleep the eternal sleep. Dreaming of fish and nuts (my name for dry cat food) and food bowls that are always overflowing and never run dry.
Open to suggestions of other terms for the Green Dream which I’ve only recently learned of.
Just very sad…