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| Doodle |
I want to say when I went to pet her, she leaned into me with relief, but the reality is that I just don't remember. Soon after she was cleared, we took her home with us as a "fospice" you know... foster/hospice. She had a disease which was likely to be her undoing, but at least at that time she would not be undone. When we got her home we immediately realized she was also profoundly deaf.
I believe she had a very happy life with someone who adored her before she landed in the shelter. She had the softest pads of any cat I've ever known. It's impossible for a cat of her age to have beans that soft without an abundance of love and being cherished. I was told her person died, and she landed with a caregiver for a brief time. When that person didn't want to care for her anymore she was dropped at the shelter. Although I'm grateful for the shelters, I cannot help but wonder what do people think will happen when an elderly animal gets dropped at a shelter, not to even mention one with medical problems.
Because of these, or maybe other things, she had a forever sadness in her eyes. I think she missed her person more than anything and was living with a terribly broken heart. She became a heart cat in my life, but for her I think I was probably just more a bridge that was going to see her through her needs until she could see her beloved person again. She loved me, she loved both of us here, but I am convinced her heart would never mend until she was reunited. Still, she gave us everything she had left in her heart that wasn't covered with her own emotional scar tissue of grief and loss.
We learned to communicate with each other... me with hand signals and stomps on the ground (especially not to startle her as she slept so hard), and she with these incredibly huge meowing screams (she couldn't hear herself, so that's just how she rolled). Often we spoke to her with our lips resting on her ears, head or body so she could feel the vibrations of whatever words or songs being shared.
No one else stepped up for a deaf, elderly cat with medical issues so she stayed with us. Of course I had fallen madly in love. At one point last summer, she had a health crisis, we thought she was going to cross. So, we immediately adopted her to have control over every factor of what she might need. Once she was officially adopted, she rallied immediately. It was like she knew she would be forever safe for the rest of her life, whatever the rest of her life was going to be.
Time went on. Mornings were for the other happy vegan's lap as her setting for hours, evenings she would claim mine. She would sleep a slumber so deep, one I've never known from another. As a happy accident I learned that she loved when I would put my phone against her body and play music so she could feel the rhythm. She basked in the sun, played with her yellow catnip bananas, screamed when she was hungry, and ruled this house as the Sun rules our planetary universe. She was simply the center of everything. Days and nights were filled with her magnificent breathy, loud and stilted purr, along with her ever present tics and little "mrph" sounds. It was a very good time, very very good.
She went camping with us on our RV trip last summer. She was unphased through the travel and when she wasn't napping, she'd spend time looking out the window. I was in the back of the truck with her and all the others giving all of them anything they wanted or needed, but especially for her. At the campsite, she watched butterflies and dragonflies, huge HUGE dragonflies, pass her by through the screen of the special outdoor enclosure we bought for the her and the others. Always with the breathy, loud and stilted constant melody of her purr.
Our home became full of different shaped cat beds, boxes, cardboards and any other thing we thought she might enjoy. Most chairs and even our own bed had a bench, a stool, a box or a container adjacent to them so she could more easily get up and down because sometimes she really liked being on things. Toys were everywhere, although the only thing she played with was the yellow catnip bananas we had scattered around, her favorite by far.
grief is the price we pay for love
She went for regular veterinary care and checkups, everything was being monitored. We had medications and herbs for her illness. She was especially difficult with the herbs, I guess they tasted like dirt, at least that's how she acted. Although her illness was progressing, we were managing it and mercifully it wasn't progressing nearly as fast as we had initially feared. Only a couple of weeks ago we had actually started to say out loud that maybe we'd all take another RV trip, how exciting!
I jinxed things with that RV trip chatter. One recent morning she refused breakfast, then the same night her dinner. A quick call and she was in to see the doctor within 24 hours. We thought something was happening with her underlying illness. This happened with our Agatha Rain, and although the signs were different, we surely thought this is what it was. We were shocked to learn that she had a sudden onset illness unrelated to her underlying disease. Although her prognosis was unknown, since it was caught so fast and the treatment started so fast, there was reason for all of us, including her doctor, to be hopeful.
I'll spend a lifetime remembering you
We took her home. We were obedient with everything the doctor ordered. She had a couple of seemingly better days, even had a light and energy session, two of them actually, as it appeared the medical treatment was working. Then just as suddenly, things started to get worse, and ultimately bleak. We did everything possible to support her, keeping hope alive that things would turn around; they did not.
When I say I didn't see this coming, I cannot impress on you dear reader how deeply this runs. I didn't see this coming until only very shortly before she crossed. I could actually count the hours off to you if I had to it was all so fast.
everyone can master a grief but he who has it
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| old is beautiful |
I slept on the floor with her on her last nights. She was happiest on one of two of her special pads tucked up right next to me. I propped the phone against her body and played music so she could feel it. She continued with her deep uninterrupted slumber, but for me there was almost none. Alone with her in the darkness, I watched her breathe, listened to the purr which had dimmed to barely audible and watched the minutes rushing by on the clock which, no matter how hard I wished, I couldn't stop. The closest that came was once when she opened her eyes in the middle of the night, saw me looking at her and with a little yawn she stretched out her leg and rested her cloud soft paw upon my arm. Who was comforting whom?
As she lay on a table with soft fuzzy blankets, my phone propped against her body so she could feel the music playing and a yellow catnip banana next to her, I held her paw and told her she would finally be seeing her beloved person again. My friend says this is the last act of love we can show as guardians. For me it's the moment when another piece of whatever small sliver of soft tissue I have left in my body converts to scar tissue. I couldn't have been any closer to her as she crossed, we were face to face, nose to nose, staring into each others eyes. I watched the moment her bluest of blue eyes went blank and felt fresh scar lay down new tracks.
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| travel safely my beloved, I love you |
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge. I hope there she has found her person.
