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| He always maintained the cat balance in the home |
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| His habit was to reach out to me and touch me with his sweet paws |
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| He always gave me his honest opinion |
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| Accepting of strangers--our greeter. |
Poor Tigger was diagnosed with Chronic Renal Failure in October. For three long months he's been tolerating sub-cutaneous IV fluids, choking down hypertension pills, and foaming at the mouth with his Pepcid AC pills. If he saw me coming he would run under the kitchen table--knowing I would eventually grab him and get that sucker in his mouth. God--he hated pills!!!
As I sit here with my heart in my throat I am missing his constant presence and human-like sensitivity to my emotions. I may have two remaining cats, but neither of them console my weeping like Tigger did. He was there for me after the devastating loss of a dear father-in-law where I literally cried into his furry body for days. He was there for me during numerous surgeries and applied himself to my body with his rhythmic purrs and healing touch. When we sat together, he would often make eye contact and give me that loving cat squint-blink to let me know all was well and he loved me. No matter what.
I thought, in the end, that his death would be a relief for him and for me. He was clearly suffering in his final week with a decreasing appetite and he started looking for places to hide and be alone. He preferred not to be touched in any way and began to howl at night and prowl around restlessly as if he was confused or just didn't feel good. His numbers were bad--the veterinarian confirmed that it was a short matter of time before he might "crash" and have a heart attack, multiple organ failure, or slip into a coma. As his precious body grew weaker and thinner I could hardly bear to see him eagerly greet me and attempt to jump on my lap. I knew our time together was coming to a close and now had the humane imperative to put an end to his suffering. I didn't want to contemplate the potential for a cat that had died alone and afraid or in pain. I opted to have the vet come to my home on January 23 and he climbed into my arms where he was sedated. The last noise I ever heard him make was his endearing snore as he drifted off for the last time. By the time it was over, I was sobbing hysterically and full of remorse--had I done something wrong to lose this sweet companion? No. I know that my life was blessed because of his presence and by his unrelenting love and loyalty. I pray that now he rests in a place where the sun shines warmly on him and he is with those others who have gone before him--my angels whom I pray will greet me when it's my time to pass.
Now having survived my first week without Tigger I am still crying daily. I still long for his fat belly to stroke and his raspy tongue to lick my hand. Sometimes I even think he is right beyond my reach, perceiving a shadow in the corner of my eye that teases me with its promise of a sweet reunion. Someday.
I am no expert on cat grief, but this is my third beloved cat to pass from a form of organ failure. I suppose I should consider myself lucky to have had them all for the years I did and none of them died in a sudden accident. I also know that these cats have all been lovingly spoiled and lived far better lives than thousands of cats on this earth. This still does not ease the pain. It seeps into my fingertips as I reach for tissue after tissue. Grief is something that takes hold of your heart and turns you into a wounded warrior who battles on every day and commits to go on living and fighting to be strong.
All of this may sound excessive in the wake of the death of what many consider "just a fluffy companion." But when an animal shares your life, in many cases it becomes such an integral part of your family that it feels like the loss of a part of yourself.
Everything I read tells me not to go out and adopt again for awhile. Allow my remaining cats to grieve and adapt. My first impulse is to offer to foster kittens but none are available currently and so my wait begins for my heart to mend and to accept my loss. Until then, each day I wake to the quiet of a house where Tigger no longer dwells and my other cats look at me mutely, as if to tell me they, too, wonder what's next.
1 comment:
I feel your loss. I lost our beloved cat on January 27 th. It was devastating & unexpected. He became sick & was hiding. by the time we got him to the hospital it was too late. I am devastated and it is hard but it is getting easier. I study Near Death experiences and have read countless stories of people who have died & were brought back , even children, who have seen their animals on the other side waiting. One story was a child who after surgery died and they revived her. The first thing she saw in the tunnel were her two animals running toward her. SHe saw God and was told it was not her time. She told God that she didn't want to go back because she wanted to be with her dogs. God promised that her animals would be there for her when she came back. This is a true story from an 11 year old who saw Heaven. I am positive that your cat is waiting for you and will greet you on your entrance afterlife.
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