Tuesday, December 23, 2008


Before the Carpet Installers yanked the carpet out of our bedroom last week, we had to remove all of the books, knick-knacks, bric-a-brac, paddy-whacks, and related crap, so that the large items could be schlepped out easily.

“Easily” is a relative term, of course, given that our dresser is made from a wood so dense that, like Aretha Franklin, it has its own measurable gravitational field.

When you move Big Furniture - especially Big Furniture that you do not move often - you find all kinds of surprises. Items that have fallen behind the dresser or under the bed. Horrifying amounts of dirt.

Hey, if you don’t see it, then it isn’t there, right?

When we dismantled our bed, however, we were unprepared for the sheer volume of schmutz we found. And a lot of that schmutz was hair. Cat hair.

Matata hair.

It was unmistakeable, that all-too-familiar grey with hints of tan. And both of us had to choke back a tear. It wasn’t the stirred-up dust that was making our eyes water.

“Should I add it to the ‘Kitty-To-Go™’?” asked She Who Must Be Obeyed.

“I don’t think so,” I replied. For what we were looking at was not pristine Kitty-Hair, freshly brushed our of our kitty’s pelt, but an amalgam of hair, dust, and miscellaneous under-bed filth. Ecch.

A carpet is naught but a Plush Reliquary. It gathers up all of the lost hairs, misplaced toenail trimmings, desiccated boogers [Did you know that boogers turn into powder after about three days? Don’t ask me how I know this], scabs, and sloughed-off skin cells, holding them in its rugose matrix for safekeeping.

Now, the collecting begins anew...and we bid adieu to the last relics of our beloved Matata. Now all that remains of her are our memories - assisted by a pile of photographs and blogposts - and a small canister of ashes residing on our bookshelf. And that is as it should be.

No comments: