I like to crochet.
A lot.
It gets me through things I need to get through, and most recently it is helping me sort through the sorrow of the death of a cat.
The cat was not mine; he belonged to my oldest son, his girlfriend, and their other cat, Mr. Bigglesworth. So this is mostly about their grief, and my inabililty to do anything about it.
So I crochet.
I sent Mr. Bigglesworth a blanket:
which he seemed to like, but I still didn’t feel as much better as I wanted to feel, so I made a crochet ball for him to play with:
which also made me feel better. But I still wasn’t through my long-distance grieving, so I decided to make him a cat, which (as it is crocheted from small bits of yarn tied one end to the other), I call Scrap Cat:
and while I don’t know what Mr. Bigglesworth will think of his new crochet companion, at least it makes me feel a little bit better.
And if you would like to see more pictures of cats with crochet, here is a blog post that documents my son’s cats romping with the various things I have made them over the years.
