Later, when I moved my small couch, I discovered a cache of his favorite toys – little yarn or metallic balls (each slightly smaller than a ping pong ball).
My other cat was not particularly interested in them, so I placed the collection in a heavy glass vase and taped a photo of Guinness on the front. That was my memorial. I put the vase behind a row of books on a living room shelf. No one need know it was there, but I knew and could occasionally smile at my memories of the crazy, loveable cat who loved only me.
This year my grandson came to visit. Somehow, he found the vase full of cat toys. They were fun to throw. So he threw them. And the other people in the room threw them back. It was a perfect storm of cat toys and laughter.
At first, I was taken aback. They were my Guinness memorial cat toys. But then I remembered how much Guinness loved to play. He would have approved. I joined the laughter.
After my guests were gone, I restored the Guinness memorial, ‘hidden’ behind the row of books. Until my grandson comes again.
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