When I found Thurber yesterday morning, it was about 6am. I went into the bedroom and whispered, "Jim."
He awoke with a start and sat up.
I was saying it as gently as I could. I had tears in my eyes, but because I knew he wasn't well, because I knew he was dying, I also felt very peaceful. Even grateful that he had such a lovely, gentle passing in his sleep. He was even doing his Godzilla mouth.
When he was a kitten, just getting strong enough to respond, he'd rear up on his back legs when we'd tease him and he'd open his mouth, baring his teeth so that he looked like a Kitten Godzilla. We'd put our fingers just within his personal space, say "Do Godzilla mouth!" And his mouth would slowly, slowly start to open and stay that way.
He eventually outgrew his Godzilla stage. And I always missed it.
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