First off my apologies for the long gap in posts but an hour after the last one the vet called to say my wonderful old one toothed, odd purring moggie, Martina, had liver cancer. Within a couple of hours I was holding her in my arms and watching as the vet pushed the plunger on the hyperdermic and her heart was stopped. She just dropped her nose into the crook of my elbow and her little heart stopped. I was beside myself with grief and guilt and even now as I write this, knowing it was only a matter of days for her, my own heart feels black with guilt. I have seen so much death but I have never been the one who signed a life away before.
I was collected from the vet by a friend and another friend later took me to a pub for whiskey but there was no time to gather myself as Teelo's wake was Saturday and I was flying to New York on Monday.
On Saturday morning I walked into the kitchen and smashed Martina's feeding bowl in fury at the week. I felt like a murderer.
All was a blur and then there was the bar and a few of Teelo's friends and a lot of Castle beer. The wake went as these things do, in stages of laughter and weeping and hugging but it was wonderful to be with others as confused and sad as me.
I was given a Sunday sanctuary by two dear friends who let me sleep and then took me to a comedy night in Guildford on Sunday night before dropping me at Gatwick. And then I was 35,000 ft above the Atlantic carrying a heart that weighed a ton and should really have been charged as overweight baggage.
My dreams since hearing about Teelo's death had become violent and disturbing and, apart from one reprise dream which involved George Clooney reading some of my poetry and demanding immediate and elaborate sex (Thanks George and anytime mate...), were causing me to lose sleep. I dreamt Teelo was dead drunk in a ditch with his dreads all caught up and we couldn't sober him up. I dreamt I was killed by a gang of eastern europeans with machetes (which was culturally interesting...) Anyway I was headng for New York and a few days of escapism with an exhausted cousin and new three week baby (plus toddler) and of course dirty martinis, Surely i would find sleep and some relief there!