My cat died today. About an hour ago. She died in my arms. I hope it was the right choice, I hope she was ready, its hard to tell with animals. I wasn’t ready. I would never have been ready. I dug her grave this morning and eerily and somewhat comically she watched. She even peered her head into the grave as I dug. At first I laughed, but then I told her it was too macabre and she should go. Then we watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless mind until the vet aka Dr. Death came. I didn’t want to let him in. It was all very fast. He said she was very weak and she probably would go fast and she did. She had a couple types of cancer and it was all a race to see which one would kill her first, and neither winner would be a pretty death. That was why I had to decide. I did not like this experience at all. I feel horrible to say the least. I put her in her little donut and gave her her snot stick and a picture of me so that she would always have mom and then covered her with a shirt of mine so she could always smell mom. I felt almost like I was reenacting that scene from Poltergeist when Carol Anne buries her bird, only this is all very real and very painful. My heart hurts. After I buried her I rushed through the house throwing away everything kitty. It’s strange writing it down like it dulls the pain some.
I really loved my cat, you know, I was fairly close to being a cat lady I just needed a few more years on me. She has been my only consistent companion, and even now I feel lonely with out her although, I feel like I can hear her meowing or think maybe she’s upstairs sleeping in my roommates closet but she isn’t. I know she isn’t. I held her body and I covered her with dirt.
I’ll never forget the final moment she had life within her flesh. As the serum rapid raced toward her heart I could feel her life. Then it evaporated, and I felt her energy dissipated and dissolve, then her eyes turned a cloudy grey, and suddenly she was gone, and in my arms was the body of a cat. I’ll never forget the feeling of life leaving.