Another Farewell

Last night we buried our sweet black and white tuxedo cat. Bob dug a hole in our flower bed, covered it with catnip, laid her inside and covered her with black dirt and flower bulbs that come up every Spring.  Her body was still warm even though it was about three hours since the vet had put her down.

I had spent a sleepless night before that stressful drive, crying in the dark living room, lit only by the television that I vainly attempted to use as a distraction and sleeping aid. I cried yesterday on the way to the vet and while waiting there, holding the frightened ball of fur in my arms. The veterinarian was sympathetic. She handed me Kleenex while I told her how we had rescued our cat from a shelter eight years before where she had been living in a cage for six months, waiting for someone to adopt her. I told the vet how we had given her a good home, spoiled her, as we do with all of our pets. Now it was time, and the best for her, to put her down.

On the drive back home I told my husband that maybe I should not get anymore pets. Letting go was so difficult. I was glad that we still had our sixteen year old cat. He has kidney failure and I had thought he would be the first to go. He is still frisky, with a great appetite. I wonder if he will miss his buddy? Both cats had come through the fire with us, and all of changes that followed. I wonder how much loss he will feel?

Tonight, another sleepless one, I thought about the many pets I had over the years. Most of them were abandoned and needing a permanent home. Each time I had to part with them it brought pain. They really can become an important part of a family. Why, I thought, didn't it become easier each time to say goodbye?

It seems that this time I shed more tears for a small, gentle black and white cat than any before her. Perhaps it is because I am in a vulnerable state now after a difficult summer with health issues. Or maybe it is because each time I say another goodbye It brings back memories of the most difficult goodbyes... a mother, a sister, a father, and, earlier this year, a brother.