Why do I have 8 cats!? I’m going to have to put 8 cats to sleep. No, not right now, I mean eventually, one by one in agonizing grief.
I’m sorry, but I’m really grouchy and sad today (this was written Monday evening). For those of you not part of the Cat Blogosphere, a very prominent and well loved member of our blogging community, Sweet Praline, was put to sleep Monday morning. This is THE hardest thing about being part of a large community of blogging cats. They get ill, go through all kinds of desperate things to get well, and they mostly don’t, and eventually have to be put to sleep. It’s heart wrenching every single time because first, you remember your own experiences…I’ve euthanized three of our beloved cats in the last 4 years; and second, it brings out the dread of knowing you’ll have to do it again. So, I’m thinking I’m going to go through it 8 fricken times…and four additional times for our dogs.
Yeah, I know. Nothing lasts forever. We’re all temporary. This too shall pass. Live in the moment…blah, blah, blah.
It still hurts.
And I get way too upset each time a cat blogger gets that sickly look or the announcement is made that so-and-so is not eating very well. I know, or at least I fear, that it is just the beginning of the end.
Oy! There is even another well loved kitty already going through the same process and the way I’m feeling today I know it won’t be long before he joins Sweet Praline.
There are probably about 300 or so cats in our community and I’m sure there are more ill kitties that I’m not aware of, but I only follow a little over 100 blogs (and most blogs have more than one cat). The math makes a high probability that we lose about one kitty a week.
It would appear that I’m just not good about pet death. I gave away a hamster when I was a kid so I wouldn’t have to find it dead in its cage one morning. I’ve tried to analyze the reasons why (and that could fill another blog post), because I’m okay with human death. Grief, shock, sadness, yes, but ultimately I have complete acceptance when a human passes (even when I lost both my parents). But analyzing it doesn’t help in the moment of grief. I’ve had to just take each death as it comes…get sad, pull away, get mad (at myself) but try to know that it gets better after a time. It does get better, but then it happens again and I start all over again.
I have to let this go…
I have to keep in my heart the knowledge that there is a continuance of life after leaving the body. That we, and they, our beloved pets, merely return to the Source where we truly “reunite” as One.
When I get this level of frustration over something, I call it a spiritual practice and suddenly it falls into perspective. Sometimes I can even chuckle at my own struggle.
Hm. I think I feel better now. Thanks for reading.
Good post, Lisa. I've been struggling with this since Annie's passing. When Chumley died, it was sudden and unexpected, in that he had a blood clot that let go one night. I didn't realize that was what had happened, thought he had a blockage and would need emerg surgery. But of course that's not how it played out. So I didn't have to say, it's time to go.
ReplyDeleteI used to wonder which was worse: the sudden shock or the agonizingly slow process and final decision and now I know that for me, it's the agonizingly slow process, the responsibility of making the decision, even though (in this case, Annie) the animal tells you clearly that it's time, s/he is tired and doesn't want to go on.
I don't feel that I'll ever adopt again after the boys pass. I live in dread of their illness/suffering/death, live in dread of the decisions I likely will have to make for them. I naively didn't realize, when I was adopting for the first time, that I would be forced to "play god." Because even when it's the *right* decision, it's still the worst thing I've ever had to do.
I don't deal well with loss at all, don't cope, wonder how the heck I'll manage when my own parents pass, if I outlive them. With no other family, no close ties...I dread that too.
So Praline's passing has brought up a wellspring of unhappy emotion...and yes, there's another kitty I'm particularly worried about too, because, as was with Annie, there's no concrete diagnosis. That's even harder, IMO--not knowing what the problem is, trying things without success. If I had known Annie had cancer, for instance, I think as hard as it would be, it somehow would be a bit easier to accept.
It *kills* me, Lisa. I don't know how people manage to seemingly bounce back and carry on, even willingly...eagerly...bring more four-legged companions into their lives.
Perhaps in 6 months or a year I'll feel differently, be at peace and have found acceptance, but right now, I'm also struggling with this very thing. I hope you, at least, are able to let go.
Because the bottom line for me is that I do believe in the Oneness of All Being, that there is One Source, regardless of what humans choose to call it and how they worship it. So if we're One, it follows that "we're" never apart, never separate.
Boy, but sometimes being human sucks. It just does.
P.S. The word verification was "coffin!"
Hubby and I have had nearly thirty cats between us. It's as hard every time to see one die, to have to make the inevitable decision. It's almost as hard to read of other blogger's beloved friends and family pass. One of the reasons I started blogging was so that I would have an outlet to offer condolences and comfort to my virtual friends (I've been reading for years) as I felt their losses acutely.
ReplyDeleteWhy do I do it? Why does Hubby do it? Because for us the love we give and receive from our feline pals outweighs and outlasts the pain of their passing. The bodies fail, but the spirits and memories live on in us. A day never passes that we don't laugh about one of our loved ones who's not with us--corporeally, at least.
And realistically, all our Cats are rescues. If not for the life we provided them, they would have been euthanized or died of exposure or worse many many years earlier. But our gift of life is tiny compared to the life they give us.
Trish
Have you ever read "The Loving Ones" also known as "You have Chosen Tears"
ReplyDeletehttp://www.bonfires.de/TheLovingOnes.htm
If you haven't, get some tissues..
My heart breaks every time I even contemplate losing one of my crew, but I know full well it is coming. Even when I am in the midst of losing a kitty (first Melody, then Kodi, then Em, and most recently Ollie) I do my best not to greive for them while they are still here as I believe it does not honor them. When I catch myself going down that road, I remember to leave the pain where it should be, where it will come full force no matter how much I try to lesson it by trying to greive before they are gone. I force myself to turn away from the what if's and what will be's and enjoy what I have when I have it (something I have to work on for more then just my kitties)
I fear I won't own any more kitties after the last of my crew is gone. I'm assuming (praying)I'll be in my 60s when that time comes, a good age to just focus on fostering and enjoying the temporary lives I can save. (but some how I doubt there are no more who will come to live with me)
With out darkness, the light would not seem as bright. With out pain, joy would not be as sweet.
I never anticipated when I started blogging that I would become emotionally attached to so many cats and that with comes the inevitable, that they are given a far shorter life span than we. It is gut wrenching huge sobbing releases when I know that one or the other dies. It clears makes me ache for the cat, for the person and for myself. Because although I've only had 4 other animals in my life the loss is as acute as any loss can be, and I've lost old relatives and young ones too, for me there is no difference. And of course it always brings forth the realistic realization that each one of my fur babies will die as well. Last week I wrote about Abby's reaction to one gut wrenching episode where she got up into my face and then into my lap and turned over and showed her belly and purred so loud, she was trying to distract me and comfort me. THAT only made it worse because even though I was reading about someone else's sadness she was the one who was at the center of mine. Even though she is healthy and fine, she is a senior and I know that time waits for no one. My day will come when I will be faced with the god awful choice.
ReplyDeleteMissed this post but Kim mentioned it on mine. I will have to go thru with the death of 20 cats - I guess I just don't think about it until it comes. I lost two within a week - Big Guy and Clarence but then the next week I found little adorable Al by the side of the road. With me I think one moves on in order for another one either to come into the family or for me to focus on one who is ill and needs more care. I have lost all of my human family and know someday I will lose these fur ones too but even tho it hurts, you just go on and do what you can for who is left. My heart just goes out to Praline's Mom - how do you carry on after your only cat s gone? To me that would be even harder. I too cry for each one on the CB that passes..but they each leave something behind for us and their humans and become part of us all.
ReplyDeleteAs you can tell, I am about a month behind in visiting, but couldn't not comment on your post today.
ReplyDeleteI have been a vet tech since 1972, and have seen and comforted many when they have lost a pet. I have taken seminars on grief counseling. And I have lost both cat companions and mourned at the loss of kittens I have helped bring into this world.
Time does heal, but they are all forever loved, just on a different plane now. That realization is very comforting to me. That is what comforts me when I think of the CB kitty friends that we lose, too.
Sweet Pralines mom posting her memories is helping all of us, and helping her too. It's that love on a different plane thing.
I recently was speaking with a kitty blogging friend and when I said to her that she is already mourning the loss of her kitty, she thought for a moment and say "Yes, you are right"...it is like you are being given that chance, that time, to come to terms with not having them to lay upon your chest at night that gives you both such joy...
I think the sudden loss of my husband to an aneurysm (and a year of therapy) has helped me see the joy my cats bring into my life as a lifelong joy which will continue after they are gone...and I will always thank them for being, just being.