Echo 500 pi

Now I write of my beloved cat Echo.

I had the difficult choice yesterday.  The choice of ending a long and beautiful cat’s life.  He was 17 and too old and too sick to save.  He had had four years of a good life with me.  A pampered life.  But now the story is over.  The life at an end.  Echo, My Echo is no more.

This is the second post I write about him.  It helps me to heal, writing.  And I drew the picture posted with this blog post.  Writing and drawing helps me heal.

Now I remember his life.  He didn’t like to share his food.  He loved to cuddle and purr.  He would spend hours on my chest as I was reading.  Leaning up to my shoulder.  And purring.  And he didn’t like to share that spot.  Echo, My Echo.

He was scared of the dogs at first.  And the dogs would try to chase him.  I would say My Echo out loud and the dogs would stop running after him.  Echo, My Echo.  It took him four years to get used to the dogs.  The dogs live in the living room, dining room and kitchen.  There is a dog gate.  The cats roam the whole house.  But Echo used to stay on the other side of the gate until a year ago.  Now he preferred to sleep with the dogs on the couch!  He was a good cat.  Affectionate.  But strong willed.

I miss him.  It helps to think of him in a meadow of daisies with Candy, my daughter’s dog, and Ray, my brother.  They too have passed.  They’re having fun together now.  I love them all.

How will this effect me?  I had a dream and woke up early.  It wasn’t a dream about Echo.  But then I couldn’t fall back asleep.  So I decided to get up and write these two posts about Echo.  Another one you can find at  That’s my writing pseudonym.  So I’ve decided to write to cope and to draw him.  That’s the drawing you see posted with this post.  But it’s 5:30 A.M.  I still haven’t drawn the marker drawing of Echo.  I’ll do that later.

I coped by getting comfort food at Wendy’s yesterday.  A bacon deluxe burger with poutine.  Then this morning I had a pear with cottage cheese.  I was still hungry.  Funny what we humans do.

So now I say adieu to Echo.  I will think of him all day.  I don’t want to go anywhere today.  I’m a bit anxious about driving because I’m tired.  I may be depressed.  We’ll see.  It helps to think that I gave him four good years.  I’ll miss him.  Echo, My Echo.

The drawing above is done with marker.  The head is a bit too wide.  But it’s Echo with his one brown eye and the other yellow green.  He was an all black cat but I tried to portray the play of light on the black of the cat with markers.  It has helped to draw him.  What helped the most was writing it into my next book, Abigail.  I spent three hours writing this morning.

If you suffer from anxiety or depression I recommend that you write about your day.  It can be as simple as a diary or a journal.  And even on your computer if it’s easier.  I write stories and the main characters suffer from depression or anxiety and they follow my day.  I haven’t tried publishing them yet.  Who knows if anyone will be interested.  But it has helped me to be able to write about my day and my challenges.  Perhaps you could start a story where you are the hero or heroine!  Who knows!  You could publish one day.  Or you could write poems.  Which I do too.  I plan to publish an ebook of my poems.  That will be within the year.  See?  I have dreams.  I have goals.  Who knows I may be able to make some money!  That would be nice.

I miss Echo today.  A large part of my days this week was taking care of him.  He will always be in my heart.  Rest in peace Echo, My Echo.  I love you.