Here is a wonderful blog from a friend and follower... The joy and pain of having and losing are pet are immeasurable and if you have ever gone through this you will understand this blog. Aurora felt that putting pen to paper and explaining her story was in fact a very healing act and so please have a read and let both me and Aurora know your feelings. Proof that you can love again xxxx
WHAT
I LEARNED ABOUT LIFE WHEN MY PET DIED
Ever
since I got Buffy, as a beautiful 12 week old Balinese kitten I worried about
when she would die. Or more precisely
about what would happen to me when she died.
How would I cope with the loss?
Back then I had no concept of how worrying is like praying for what you
don't want to happen but even if I had I doubt it would have made a difference
then; I just worried. Because Buffy was a glorious cat and once she had a hold
on my heart I knew there was no going back, ever. But of course, one day I would have to part
from her and the mere thought of that was always really scary.
I
didn't spend Buffy's entire life worrying about her dying of course, from month
to month I didn't give it a thought; we were too busy having fun, playing,
cuddling, talking. Balinese cats, like the Siamese, are very vocal and have an
opinion on pretty much everything! We
used to have long conversations with each other, neither having a clue what the
other one was saying but getting along famously nevertheless. (I told her all my secrets and she kept them
all!) She had a great zest for life, was
incredibly interactive and very affectionate.
We were in perfect sync with one another and she was a fun-loving and
loyal companion and for many years life was good. Every now and then I would think about her
not being part of my life one day and even just thinking about it would make me
incredibly sad but I had no reason to think that day would come anytime soon,
Balinese are known to get quite old and Buffy, in her prime was strong and
healthy!
However,
she inevitably got a little older, a little wiser and perhaps a little
slower. She also developed a pesky and
persistent little cough that despite numerous trips to the vet and the
homeopath just wouldn't go away or at least not for long. To start with it didn't really bother me;
Buffy certainly didn't seem bothered by it, she was still full of beans, if
slightly more dignified in her demeanor as she was considerably older. Her appetite most definitely wasn't affected
and she was clearly not in pain. She was
still a beautiful, agile, strong and energetic cat and I had every reason to
believe she would continue to be so for several years to come. I started to get a little concerned though,
at the back of my mind was a little niggle of worry that maybe I ought to take
her to the vet again, just to be on the safe side because that cough just
wasn't going away... For the best part
of a year we lived with it. It came and
went and apart from sounding annoying and each attack lasting a bit longer
every time it returned it wasn't a big deal. So we got on with it. Buffy did anyway, for my part I was always
trying to cure it. The cat was always on
some remedy or other and if she wasn't being treated by me (I have some
homeopathic knowledge) then she was on a course of antibiotics that the vet had
prescribed yet again. Almost everything
I tried worked for a while and the cough would disappear. Then, just as I draw a breath of relief and
thought it had gone for good it came back, each time a little worse until one
day it was just sounding downright sinister and my husband and I, having
listened to it for a full minute at least decided it was time yet again for a
trip to the vet.
This
time however, the vet wasn't as reassuring as before... Buffy had lost a little
bit of weight (I knew that, I weighed her myself regularly) her fur was a little
matted (that, to my shame, I hadn't really noticed but I saw her all the time
and she was still grooming herself daily) also the airways sounded a bit
constricted. Maybe not just a cough then
but a symptom of something else, something a bit more ominous?! The vet was a little cagey about it and sent
us home with another injection of antibiotics and a check-up appointment in ten
days time. From there it went pretty
much down hill and very rapidly. Buffy
was diagnosed with lung cancer two weeks later and died the same week she was
diagnosed. The last few days I spent at
home with her, neither of us leaving the house once and apart from spending a few
hours sunbathing in the garden, and on one memorable occasion chasing a
butterfly, my girl was lethargic, sleepy and very quiet. Her once glossy coat matted and shaven off in
large areas showing her pink skin and blue veins, making her look vulnerable and
sick but also oddly beautiful. Painfully
thin she was barely eating apart from what I managed to get her to lick off my
fingers. A sliver of tuna, the smallest
dollop of taramasalata or natural yoghurt.
The cat who had once had such an appetite for food, for living, for fun
had clearly had enough of life. The
problem was; I could never have enough of her and I had no idea how to let her
go.
I was angry though. With myself for ignoring her cough for too
long (I didn't actually but I blamed myself anyway) but mostly with God for
taking her away from me in such a selfish manner! I could absolutely understand why he wanted
to bring his beautiful creature home but how could HE possibly need her more
then I did? And I NEEDED her to stay
with me. Even before she died I was
going through the grief of losing her and it was painful in the extreme.
Strangely,
in the end it was almost easy though. My
husband asked me what I wanted to do, how did I want to play it? And the answer was, of course, do what is
right by Buffy. Nothing else was of any
real importance, our own feelings and emotions could not come into it. That meant no invasive procedures or
treatment, no trying to prolong the life of a sick and tired cat who had
clearly had enough. My beloved pet was
going to die with dignity and peace that was all there was to it.
The
morning on the day that Buffy died I woke up knowing what my next cat would be
called. The name came to me on waking
and I did not know where from or why.
Buffy was not yet dead and I was thinking of names for a new pet, or
rather I had a new name, out of thin air!
I couldn't explain it, I still can't but I knew the new one would be
called Susie and I also knew I felt no guilt (very unlike me) for thinking
about another cat even though my present one was lying on the floor, breathing
heavily, still alive. Only just
mind. I also knew that I was no longer
angry with God. We had made our peace again.
I didn't know however, that Buffy would die that day, although clearly it
was a strong possibility given how sick she was. The vet had told us to play it by ear, it
could be days or weeks but she was unlikely to see the month out so of course
we knew it would be soon. Very
soon. The vet had also told us she was
unlikely to have a peaceful death on her own as her respiratory system was so
affected by her lung cancer and that there was a real risk of her having a
panicky, frightening death with breathing difficulties if we left it to
late. Needless to say that was never
going to be the case, that was the one thing about her death that was in my
power and I would not allow that to happen to her...
The
morning progressed as the previous mornings that week had done. Neither of us ate much, we watched a little
TV, looked at each other, I told her I loved her for the millionth time, she
stared back at me soundlessly. I cried,
she slept. Around lunch time she had a
horrendous coughing fit followed by another whilst I trembled with fear,
watching her frail body heaving with the strain of it all. Once she calmed down I stroked her gently and
as time seemed to stand still looked at her and said "This is no fun
anymore Buffy, is it? Have you had
enough poppet?!" She looked at me
and I just knew. We had communicated
with one another her entire life, I knew her and I got her message loud and
clear. I had promised to take care of
her and the time to do it had come.
Helping her up on to the radiator bed she favoured I put my hand under
her chin. For the longest time we gazed
at each other and then she started to purr, for the last time. I called my husband and then the vet.
The
days and weeks following Buffy's death were bleak to say the least. Not a moment went by when I didn't think of
her, I cried constantly and I missed her to the point of physical pain. My husband was moping around the house
dealing with his own grief and we both felt lost and raw. We talked vaguely about getting a dog (Buffy
had been terrified of dogs, in fact she didn't like any animals very much and
out of consideration to her we had decided not to have another pet for as long
as she was alive and in truth we didn't feel the need for one, we had our
Buffykins!) But neither of us felt the need to rush out and buy one straight
away. So we moped around some more. Cried and drank endless cups of tea. And quite a few glasses of wine too. My friends were wonderful, not one of them
said anything about it "just being a pet" (although my friends would
never even think like that it has to be said!)
Some of them, they had all known Buffy, were genuinely grieving her
themselves. That helped me
enormously. And a few days after she had
died I got all the photos taken of her together and spent two full days making
a collage of her life. My husband framed
it and hung it up on the kitchen wall. I
don't know what prompted me to do this but it was incredibly therapeutic and
healing.
I
knew I needed a new cat though and I didn't want to wait too long. It wasn't a case of trying to replace Buffy,
I knew that could never be done and I wouldn't want to anyway. Perhaps because I wasn't looking for a
replacement it didn't feel necessary to wait a long time before I started
looking at adverts for kittens. My
husband felt differently about it, possibly like we were disloyal to the memory
of Buffy by actively searching for a new cat to adopt or maybe it just felt too
soon for him. Our grieving processes are
unique and individual but I felt no need to hang around but I also knew that I
needed a new pet to love or I would go not so slowly quite mad. For once in my life I decided to push my will
through at whatever the cost, despite my husband's protests. And my darling spouse obviously realised how
strong this need was for me and he put his own feelings aside and allowed me to
go ahead and even came to look at kittens with me, purely to make me
happy, but being very gracious about it.
I
found a gorgeous chocolate pointed Siamese kitten, seven weeks old and put down
a deposit on her about a month after we'd had lost Buffy. She was too little to come home yet but just
knowing she would be mine before the end of the summer lifted my spirits
considerably! Then, in a little
delightful twist hubby decided to be rather gung-ho and plunge right in and get
a dog after all, so that they could grow up together and so that we would not
be in a position a year or two down the line when the cat's nose would be
seriously out of joint if we got a dog.
My husband did very well in his research and found a beautiful retriever
pup that had spent her first eight weeks of life in a household with Siamese kittens! The fact that we had to drive to Sommerset
from Sussex and back to get this puppy didn't deter us, this really felt like
fate!
And I
really think it was fate. I truly
believe that when God created this dog he had us in mind as her owners! We've named her Madison (after Madison Avenue
where we stayed when we got engaged) and from the moment she became ours she
stole my heart and I don't think I will ever get it back! She is kind, playful, enthusiastic and
loving. Her true desire in life is to be
with her pack (and to eat!) She is
loyal, funny and just so darn cute and she has healed me in a way that I didn't
think was possible. Maddie makes me
laugh, she fills my heart with joy and she shows me how much fun there is in
life even at a time when I felt bruised and broken. Susie the kitten is four months now and she
is getting bigger and more grown up almost by the day. She is incredibly affectionate, quite chatty
and playful and even though she is a little shy she is getting more confident
by the day. She also has my heart in her
tiny paw and both I and my husband are her willing slaves, pandering to her
every whim! Susie and Madison are truly
the best of friends; they groom each other, they rest together and they play
together. Our house is full of running,
chasing, barking, yelping, purring, tail wagging chaos and I am astounded and
happy that the sun is shining again so soon after what felt like an endlessly
dark time!
I still
think of Buffy every day, I cry over her some days and I talk about her often
but I am moving on. Her death taught me
that grief truly is the price we pay for love and that when you love someone
you really do keep them in your heart forever!
To be entrusted with the responsibility for her well being and care was
an honour and a privilege and I cherish the time we had together. Memories of her are full of joy not
pain. Madison and Susie are teaching me
that life is for living and FOR the living, that everything in life has its
time, and they are here now and they need me and love me and trust me to look
after them as best as I can. These are lessons
I would never want to be without and I am honoured and blessed to experience it
all.
