Requiem For A Calico

My 20-year-old cat died yesterday. She’d been with us since she was a kitten, moved with us many times, lived with us on the road for a few years, and saved our dog’s life when he was mourning the loss of our previous cat. I guess I could feel bad about losing a great cat, but ultimately she was just a cat, right?

I missed a few short putts the last time I played and hit a few crappy shots, but I still shot 78. I’ve been playing the best golf of my life lately, with 9 of my last 10 rounds in the 70s. I guess I could feel good about getting better at this game I’ve played for nearly 50 years, but it’s really no big deal. Ultimately, it’s just a game, right?

But I care. I care a lot. I miss Taylor, and will for a long time. I care about my game, and will care the next time I miss or make a putt. It would be easier not to care, and probably more fashionable. Easier to say it’s just a cat, just a game. But it’s not. And my life is richer because it isn’t.

So rest in peace, Taylor. You’ll be missed.

(Photo by Loretta Prokop)

 

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