Goodbye Tink and thoughts

We had to say goodbye to little Tink today, the little black kitten that wasn't even quite six months old.  We really don't know what happened to him - but suspect he ate something bad, or something that had eaten something bad (like a mouse or bird)... he was fine at nine o'clock last night, and dead before seven o'clock this morning... with no apparent injuries other than throwing up on the floor.  So very sad.. Esme had to see him as well before we took him out to bury him.  She was shocked, but maybe felt better for knowing... his eyes were still open - and that bothered her a lot.

Sorry to be so frank on all that.. it bothered me quite a bit, as well.

I had just woken up from a jumbled type of dream before I went down to find him - sort of lost in time in my own mind not sure if my mom would walk down the hallway in her cotton nightgown or not - realizing that hallway was far away, in time and space, but really just around the corner in my head - sorting out that I was no longer a child, .. that my mom had died, and would not be walking in at all - that I was asleep and dreaming, that I was the mother, and Esme was downstairs in her room in symbolic contrast to what my sleeping self had remembered at the beginning of the dream.. that if she did walk in it would be as a ghost - and wondering why my brain was even in 'that place' right now.  I backtracked to my dream self was thinking about she should be writing to my mom about Esme's school supplies and the end of summer/beginning of school -- it would be what I would do, as the 'change of season', to keep her updated, and send pictures etc.. an echo of things that I know would be happening, if things were different than they were right now.  My dream self didn't want to write that letter, or make that call.. the procrastination of the past six months or so with Mom that I had such a hard time communicating with her I would put it off until I had the mental energy..... I didn't even remember at first with that that the real reason to not write was that she was gone - and then feeling that I could still tell her in the dream - that she was nearby, but I would have to locate her - but not wanting to go and 'find' her... and ending up in the time jumble of she is nearby, just down the hallway, in her room, any moment she will come down the hall and check on me... and forcing myself to right my thinking and wake up...  I was about to pour a cup of coffee and come upstairs to write in my own dream journal about that dream.... when I saw the poor kitten laying oddly and not moving on the floor by the bathroom door.

Esme wrote a note and drew a picture of him in her Kindergarten notebook.. which she dug in her room and found after Mark took him away - saying she had to get her dream journal and write in it.

So oddly circular... strange day.
Tomorrow we give away the last of the puppies, we hope... and I have the weekend off.  Trying to fight a cold, myself.. tea and ginger.