R.I.P. Grendl

Grendl, our last remaining cat, has died. I had had a crummy night's sleep again on Thursday night, but went in to work and had a productive day, even to the point of fixing another pernicious bug in my product (yay Zombie Programmer!). But as I pulled into the garage Friday evening, I was greeted by Jean and Kelly at the door. "This is nice," I thought.

"Grendl's dead!" they blurted. They were trying to warn me so I didn't wonder where Grendl was and see the box with her body in it.

I actually felt the blood leaving my face. I had to lean against Jean's car for a moment, while the flood of emotion swept through me. I had known Grendl was not long for the world. She'd lived an unusually long life for a cat, over twenty years. Still, I saw her every day, scratched her behind the ears leaving for work or returning home, fed her and kept her litter box clean. There was a connection, even if it felt casual at the time.

Still, the universe occasionally displays a certain benign synchronicity. Last Sunday saw the broadcast of Disney's remake of The Music Man, and we had watched part of it and recorded the whole thing to give it a fair viewing some time later. While Matthew Broderick was putting his own stamp on the role of Professor Harold Hill, he just didn't project in the way Robert Preston could.

So only this Thursday, I had given in to my desire to own the original, and brought home the DVD. Last night, Jean decided that we all needed a pick-me-up, and made popcorn. Kelly saw the original for the first time. Seeing what is possibly the finest musical movie ever made did a lot to lift the clouds, and gave me some breathing room from my mixed emotions.

So now it's Saturday morning, and I'm just gonna say, I'll miss Grendl.