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RIP Willow, April 1998 - July 2008
I just got the renewal card for Lilac's 3-year pet license, so I made an appointment for the required rabies vaccination. Three years ago I took Willow and Lilac in for the same reason, and Willow was deemed too ill for the shot. She kept losing weight, and died rail-thin a few months later of what I believe was intestinal cancer.My sweet round fluffy blue-eyed cat. I miss her high-pitched mew and assertive leap onto my lap. I think Lilac misses her, too. She sometimes stands in the hallway and howls, which she never used to do. Just after Willow died, Lilac curled up under a table and refused to move or eat for days. I thought I was going to lose her too.
One of the downsides of being single. Advocating for a sick cat at the vet alone. Deciding when it's time to have her put down alone. Biking to the appointment with the cat in the trailer alone. Digging a grave in the hard July dirt alone. Laying her to rest with her collar and brush alone. Living with my guilt over the pain she must have suffered in those last months alone. (I tell myself Willow forgives me.)
I know someone who advertises herself as a celebrant of life's transitions. I thought of her as a friend, until the moment when I asked her to support me in making that final decision for Willow, and she was suddenly "too busy" to visit. Now I'm friendly and polite with her, but I think of her as an acquaintance.
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"Terrifying" is a good word for trusting my intuition around another being's existence. Maybe that's why I'm writing about it now, when my self-trust feels shaken.
(Lovely icon!)
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My condolences, and may the memory of her lighten your grief.
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