The Day Ginger Died (18)

by Jeanne Clarke
(Baltimore, Md.)

My Ginger

My Ginger

I'm not a crier. In fact, crying irritates me when I hear it. Which is kind of sad, since my daughter cries frequently over just about everything. I didn't even cry when my father died, or when my mother died seven years ago. But when my beloved cat, Ginger, died in my arms over two years ago, I cried for a week.

I had Ginger since he was a six week old kitten - an orange tabby, scampy little kitten. One of four, his mother was the mouser for a Bail Bondsman. His father, an unemployed lazy alley cat. We needed a kitten because - well, because I've always had a cat. The only reason we didn't have one was because our last one had passed away, we moved, and hadn't had a chance to get one.

Ginger arrived home with me via the bus and the light rail, his little head bobbing up and down in my tote bag. A curious little fellow from the start, he explored the whole place and then fell asleep. I ran out to get a litter box, litter, and the best kitten wet food I could find. "Ginger" was his nickname; his full name was Gingerbread due to his coloring. But I always called him mittens because he had the cutest white boots and mittens for paws.

For seven and a half years Ginger was my constant companion. Each morning he snuggled in my lap while I saw at my computer, often sharing a pastry with me. He slept with me each night and followed me around like a shadow. When he was nearly eight, he had a stroke. An animal cardiologist gave him medications, and I massaged his rear legs until he could move them again. With care and love, he was able to overcome the back leg paralysis and run about again. I had four extra months with my buddy. Then, one evening, he had a series of strokes which once again paralyzed him, worse this time. I took him back to the vet. She gave him stronger medication. I tried, but the next night, as I was holding him, he convulsed, and I held him tighter, and then he was dead. For nearly an hour I just held on to him, kissing him, crying...then I carried him around to my children and husband for a final kiss, then laid him down.

I cried steadily for a week, each night in the shower. His ashes are in a wooden box which will be buried with me. And we have a rescue cat now, Rook, who came to us three days after Ginger's death. An addition to the family, not a replacement.

For my Ginger was one of a kind.

Click here to post comments

Join in and write your own page! It's easy to do. How? Simply click here to return to Free Creative Writing Prompts #1.

Enjoy this page? Please pay it forward. Here's how...

Would you prefer to share this page with others by linking to it?

  1. Click on the HTML link code below.
  2. Copy and paste it, adding a note of your own, into your blog, a Web page, forums, a blog comment, your Facebook account, or anywhere that someone would find this page valuable.

Write a Story Based on These Prompts or This Article!

Use the above prompts or article as inspiration to write a story or other short piece.

[ ? ]

Upload 1-4 Pictures or Graphics (optional)[ ? ]


Click here to upload more images (optional)

Author Information (optional)

To receive credit as the author, enter your information below.

(first or full name)

(e.g., City, State, Country)

Submit Your Contribution

  •  submission guidelines.

(You can preview and edit on the next page)

What Other Visitors Have Said

Click below to see contributions from other visitors to this page...

My favourite childhood toy Not rated yet
When i was only five years old.i have a beautiful has red and white colour.i ride it outside my house. i liked it very much ,one day i was in my …

There is no life without moves Not rated yet
I think movies and TV is an essential part of my life and it is hard to imagine life without movies, on one hand movies are a great source of entertainment …

Click here to write your own.