My cat died yesterday. It was quite scary for me because it happened unexpectedly. Sweet One was napping and I sat on the couch. He walked on my lap and then I decided to get up and wrap some presents. I was sitting on the living room floor and within minutes I heard him fall off the back of the couch and when I rushed over to him he was making strange sounds and not responding to me calling his name. I kept calling his name, over and over, hoping he'd wake up. (Thankfully Sweet One chose this afternoon to have a decent nap so she was sleeping while I was freaking out.)(Also, our contractor had gone to get supplies so that was nice, too!) Amidst my flood of tears I called the vet and they said I needed to bring him in. I was terrified to touch him. I called Big Love at a restaurant he was at for his staff Christmas lunch and he got home as soon as he could, wrapped him up and put him in the carrier so I could take him to the vet. I said goodbye to him and he looked very peaceful. Gave him a few kisses on the head and petted him. Thanked him for being such a good little friend to me over the years. (When Sweet One woke up she said "dat" a few times and has been looking around for him.) The vet said it was probably a heart thing that happens to older cats and they can't detect with the stethoscope, only an autopsy. We had been anticipating not too much more time with him as his kidneys had started to fail but I did not expect it to happen at home. The day before I bought treats for his Christmas stocking. I am thankful that he didn't suffer at all.
I knew it would be hard to lose my little companion but I never imagined it would be as hard as it is. LM Montgomery spoke of her cats in her journals and many of her stories had cats who played very important roles for the heroines. There was a time in my life where that did not make sense to me as I've never been a cat person. I considered myself only a "my cat" person. His little spirit was so affectionate and quirky enchanted me. I loved my little cat and he was a kindred spirit of mine on four legs. He was with me, often crawled up on my chest, stomach or legs, through some very dark and lonely times. I've had him around for 8 years. And I still expect him to crawl up on my lap as I sit here and type.
This was a lovely tribute to your sweet cat.
ReplyDeleteThank you.
ReplyDeleteWhen I lost my Sinatra I thought I'd never recover. He had been with me through 8 years, 5 moves, 4 jobs, and several boyfriends. He was my baby. He was hit in the street, it broke his neck and he died almost instantly. I am grateful that it was as painless as it could be.
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