Miaow.

IsaBee recently lost someone.

Most of the time I think myself to be a cold-hearted mermaid of steel, but Kyra’s death actually caused me to stop for a minute and take inventory of the moment that is now. After I read the sms that announced the finality, the music stopped, the night grew quiet, the earth paused on its axis, and something fell from my heart like a leaf from an autumn tree. I bid my silent farewells to a cat that was not mine.

I had to do something, I had to fill the empty moment with something that I could attach to her image in my mind. Because you only die once. At the temple, you can hire-a-monk (TM) to do eight hours of solid chanting in the name of a loved one, if they’re recently deceased. This enables the soul to quickly pass over to the next level, guided by spiritual song. I tried desperately to remember the mantra for this, or the name of the Buddha you had to consult, but I only got the answering machine and I didn’t leave a message. Instead I opted for the mantra of compassion, the mantra for 2005: Om Mani Peme Hung. A few minutes of that, plus some lotus-position meditation and visualisation... Once again, I feel that I either have some power in me, or that I’m slightly delusional. I’m willing to accept either.

Slightly sad about the cat that was not mine. As soon as I opened my eyes after I felt I’d expended the energy I needed to expend on acknowledging a feline soul, my miaow jumped through the window, and I cuddled him for a little while. Not the cuddly type. Neither Ichi nor me. My spicy cat, fur on fire. On Saturday I will play fire in Kyra’s memory. I’ve never played fire for a dead pet before. But I like the idea. It’s all about the thought behind the action.