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2/26/1999 Stiff Neck9:45 a.m. Miss Jean, our neighbor from around the corner, left a message on our machine last night. I returned her call and found out that someone had shot Gilbert, her cat. She wanted to let us know because, as she said, she didn't know what to say to the boys if they should ask about Gilbert on our walk. Gilbert was an abandoned cat that Jean and Diane had taken in and tried to keep as an indoor cat. When they wouldn't let him outside, he expressed his displeasure by urinating on a rug by the door, so finally they gave in. They used to keep him in at night, though, and on Wednesday night they were worried when he didn't come to the door. The found him the next morning lying dead near the alley, a spent shell casing nearby. They took him to the vet, who confirmed that he had been shot. I was shocked by the news. Gilbert was an extraordinarily friendly silver tabby cat who always ran to greet us on our walks. He'd roll around on the sidewalk, purring, and let the twins pet him. In fact, his friendliness may have been his undoing; I wouldn't be surprised if Gilbert had actually approached his killer without fear or any expectation of malevolence. We decided not to say anything to the boys, but if they ask where Gilbert is, we will say he got sick and died. Explaining death to 3- and 5-year-olds is difficult enough; I'm not ready for my sons to find out that there are such evil people in the world. They'll learn it all too soon. 8:05 p.m. Stephanie took her grandsons out for lunch today, and I treated myself to a matine of Elizabeth, which has returned to an area theater. I enjoyed it immensely. The moviemakers play fast and loose with history, but it is a fascinating character study of a remarkable woman and queen. Cate Blanchett is a revelation as Elizabeth, portraying her as an uncertain, apprehensive girl who transforms herself into capable ruler and finally into an icon. I particularly liked the use of light and dark in the movie. The early scenes in which Mary is queen are dark and claustrophobic, as life in the Tudor castles must have been; but our first glimpse of Elizabeth is out in the sunlight, dancing with her ladies. The light and dark dichotomy is maintained through the movie right up until the last scene in which the transfigured Queen Elizabeth with her powdered white face appears out of blinding white light. I am in pain right now. I look as though I am doing a poor impersonation of Richard Nixon; my shoulders are stiff and hunched, my head is bent forward. I first noticed that I had a sore neck the night before last when I was working on my latest volume for the Press. It hurt to turn my head from the screen to look at the copy. Instead of going away as these things usually do, it has gotten worse, until just the act of raising my head is agonizing. Ibuprofen doesn't seem to be helping. Tab brought down the heating pad for me to try. I hope it will help.
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