The Day My Cat Died

My cat died today. She died in my arms. I hope it was the right choice, I hope she was ready. Its difficult 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 if I should have her put to sleep or wait it out. I did not like this experience at all.

I’ll never forget the final moment she had life within her flesh. As the serum rapidly 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. It just evaporated. She was nothing but a shell without the life that moved inside her. I was fascinated and simultaneously filled with a deep sorrow.

I buried 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 was all very real and very painful. My heart hurt. After I buried her I rushed through the house throwing away everything kitty.

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 had been my only consistent companion, and even now I feel lonely without 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, I carried her to a grave, then I covered her with dirt. That was the end.


One thought on “The Day My Cat Died

  1. leta1950

    Reblogged this on An Accidental Vagabond and commented:

    I’ve created a new category titled Accidental Vagabond. This section is part of the answer to the question, how did I get here. How did I become an accidental vagabond? How is it that I am reposting a blog about the death of my cat while I am sitting in an a apartment in Seoul? How are theses things possible? Are they connected? Do they matter? It’s funny to think back on it, but the death of my cat was a starting point for returning back out into the world of travel. It didn’t happen right away, but a few years after Boo died I left the country. I had wanted to leave before, but my cat prevented it. Not that I couldn’t just give her to someone, and then go. I knew and know that’s possible, but I didn’t want to. I loved my cat, my pet, and I chose to stay in places where I was able to have her. That’s what happens to us in life. We make choices, and some of those choices mean giving up other things in life. We have pets, we get married, we have children, we decided to help our parents. There are many things that we choose for better or for worse, and at times we may wonder what would have happened if I made a different choice. Honestly, it doesn’t really matter if you made a different choice because you live in the choice you made, but that choice back then does affect you in the present. It built you. It’s part of your foundation.
    After my cat died I was free to travel. I didn’t have to worry about her. There was a freedom, but I was happy to have spent the time I did with that precious animal. I know some people don’t think animals have much value in our lives, but for those of you who understand loving and caring for a pet, you know what I mean.
    I’m reposting this as a reflection because I’m about to have a change in my life, a new pet. This time it is a different animal. A dog, and the dog is not mine, she belongs to my boyfriend. There are many choices being made, and this choice does affect my ideas of travel. In fact, many ideas or thoughts and day dreams have to change and adapt. I’ve chosen a man and his dog to be apart of my life. We are building a new life, and a new foundation together. I wonder, in a wonder without remorse, but purely curiosity, will we be able to travel the world as I fantasize? If so how? At least years from now I can check back to this post.

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