Not having a pair (or three) of glowing eyes watching from the corners has been the strangest part.
For the past fifteen-plus years, furry companions trailed behind me from room to room, eying me with hunger, interest and sardonic distaste. The look foremost in their eyes varied according to mood and the level of kibble in their bowls.
The first and eldest cat met his maker some three years ago, leaving behind a power vacuum in the cat hierarchy that the youngest one was more than happy to fill. But that cat began a rapid decline at the end of 2007; despite rallying for a short while, he made his last trip in the pet carrier a few weeks ago on a Friday, too spent even to yowl.
I’ve made a point not to hide the facts of death from my offspring. We all said goodbye to the cat before the eldest child and I departed. She’d chosen to attend the death of the first cat and she wanted to do the same for this one. “Are you sure?” I asked, not wanting to assume that her sensibilities hadn’t changed over time.
She was sure. Even as the vet struggled to find a vein in the cat’s dehydrated body, she held firm, though she covered her eyes with her coat. I wanted to do the same.
We spent the next few days being sad about that cat. There was some talk about how the death of the cat would allow us to get a hamster. This I did my best to quash. No matter how sweet a ham might have been, we needed time to mourn. I didn’t want to suggest that the pain of loss could be avoided by pulling a quick switcheroo.
The last remaining cat, a tiny girl-kitty, had throughout her life looked upon her brothers as boorish interlopers to her claim on the humans. She consistently eyed the other cats with an air of unmitigated disgust.
So with her competition gone, I expected her to flourish. She certainly seemed to. She ate, drank, used the facilities and cuddled as per the usual. A few times she wandered about mewling mournfully, but this was no deviation from her regularly scheduled feline duties.
Eight days after we had the second cat put to sleep, the children left to spend the weekend with their father. The cat and I snuggled on the couch whilst I worked. She followed me to bed at midnight. She trailed behind me to the kitchen in the morning and then back up the stairs with me later when I laid down for a nap. She acted completely, utterly normal.
When I woke up, I was not surprised to find her lying in the sun at the top of the stairs. It was one of her favorite spots, and one that she’d disdainfully shared from time to time with her brothers. I was surprised — shocked even — that her eyes were open and her tongue hung softly from of her mouth.
I’d never dealt on my own with a dead body of any variety. Eventually I hit upon the thing to do: I wrapped her in an old towel, placed her in a cardboard box and set her in the chilly garage to await the opening of the vet’s office after the weekend.
The children wanted to see her body when they returned home. This seemed somehow very wrong to me, but I dutifully folded back the towel before their earnest little faces. All of them, even the littlest, desired one more time to pet her fur. Though this slightly skeeved me out (and I insisted on thorough hand-washings after the fact), I did nothing to prohibit their displays of affection.
Within the space of nine days we lost our remaining little cat family. Whether he aims to make off with human or well-loved pet, there’s rarely a reasonable explanation for why death wanders in when he does. But one still has to wonder. Caught up as I was in the health of the other cat, did I miss signs of illness in her? Did age do her in? Or grief from the loss of her companion?
No matter.
We’ve been scattered. I could use a little gathering together now — or at least a short reprieve from scattering.
When my cat, Spot, died last year, I too needed one last time to pet her and say goodbye. Now she rests among the dahlias at friends’ house in quiet woods. I miss her.
I haven’t had this experience with pets yet… I haven’t owned any yet. I’m so sorry for the loss you must be feeling now. I know your children are in great hands, you’ll pull through this.
Take care.
I lost both of my dogs about eight months apart last year. Both deaths were very unexpected and still weigh heavily on me. The second so much so that even six months after her death I still haven’t told any of my friends from my local greyhound rescue group.
You did nothing wrong with your third cat. It was simply her time. It sounds like a massive heart attack. I wish that my dogs could have gone as peacefully rather than having to make that trip to the vet.
All of your animals are now playing together at Rainbow Bridge and will wait patiently for you to join them. Who knows but maybe they are even annoying my dogs?
Your kids sound lovely – I think they will grow up to be compassionate and responsible – they seem to be already.
Damian’s last blog post..Grumbleground
I jsut wanted to pass on my sympathies and *hugs*, AAG. Cats are family, beloved, and losing them is always a hard thing. To lose so many so close together – I don’t even want to imagine.
Thinking of you,
Dee
Curvaceous Dee’s last blog post..The Naked Truth
Well, shoot…
XOXOXO
Chuck
Do not want.
Kochanie’s last blog post..Directions
Oh AAG I’m so sorry. I have always had cats growing up. I love them so much, that my now-husband’s Christmas gift two years ago was paying the pet deposit at our apartment so we could get two cats. We adopted two grown kitties and they are now full members of our family.
It sounds like you have taught your children well about the ways of death. I think it’s sweet that they wanted to pet her one last time.
AAG,
We have made it a point not to hide the realities of life from our small children. When our family cat pass away this New Years, we made sure that we told them that he had died and not try to obfuscate the reality by saying something like he had “gone to sleep”. They really had a hard time grasping the concept (at 3 years of age) but they will in time. I have seen cases where, after being told that someone/thing had “gone to sleep” the children were deathly afraid to go to sleep because they thought they would never wake up again.
Truth and honesty are always the best policy no matter how it hurts.
Life and death are just parts of the pet ownership process. It’s hard for the first few days. My condolences and hugs to you and yours.
Ooohh – I’m so sorry. I have two young ones (children), so I know that sometimes they react towards death differently than we ever think they would. I think you are a wonderful mom and dealt with it perfectly and I hope you get an answer as to what happened to your beloved family pet.
Randi’s last blog post..His Side of the Family
I’m so sorry hon. It’s so hard to lose a pet. Sometimes I think it’s harder than losing a human loved one though I couldn’t explain why.
I suspect your kitty died of a broken heart. It’s not unheard of. I lost two dogs in six months to cancer. The second dog was doing very well, then began to decline when his brother died.
Finn’s last blog post..100 Things About Me… Part One
Hugs and much love to you and the kids. It is always hard to lose a pet. My kids still haven’t forgiven me for a kitten that ran away two summers ago and we still have around 14 cats at the moment. Most of them are out side cats. I have four kittens that need homes to bad you live so far from me.
hugs? i haz them.
[[ aag ]]
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I’m sorry to hear about your cats. I love cats. Don’t blame yourself, sometimes stuff just happens with cats and they do a good job of hiding it. It’s hard for us to see. Your kids seem so well adjusted to say goodbye to the last cat the way they did. I loved that part of your story.
Once our bird dies we’ll get a cat. When I was in Singapore, I got to pet a Serval and fell in love with it. Looks like a good apartment pet.
aw darlin’ that sucks. weirder still not to have that pitter patter… i still see two lost cats in the shadows and out of the corner of my eyes… and it isn’t always my two currents playing trompe l’oeuil either…
*huggs*
badinfluencegirl’s last blog post..oh?
Omg, I keep seeing and hearing mine too. All the time. I’ll catch the tip of a tail, or the top of ears…I know it’s just my mind playing tricks on me.
Er…isn’t it?
A bit over a year ago, I had to have my 20-year old Siamese cat put to sleep after a very severe stroke. She was pitiful but I didn’t take her for several days because my girlchild kept begging me to give her a chance to get better.
I still see her sitting on the cedar chest when I glance down the hall, or find myself lying on my back with my arm held like a C for her because that was the only place she slept in the night.
I have lost a dog and a cat in the time since I’ve lost my husband. The funny thing is, when they came into our home, especially the cat…I never dreamed that they would live longer than he would.
Missing my animals always leads back to missing the people I’ve loved and lost.
N.
As a Vet Tech it sounds really weird that they all died like that. And REALLY sad.
I would check to make sure someone hadn’t given them Rat poison. That dehydrates them to death and then they have massic Cardian arrest.
I’d make sure to have a really good look around and not let any future pets be indoor/outdoor (indoor only) in case they ingested poison.
http://www.doctordog.com/catbook/catpoison.html
Rat posion????
Wtff???
Nah, my cats are all indoors. And no poisons around here. I even let the ants range free in the spring.
Too many people eat off the floor. Poisons are right out.
:)
Correction…were.
:(
Any time youre ready,,I got a Moe for ya,,he’s a love…..
i like to think it’s both your mind playing tricks on you and your lost loves waving the tip of their tails at you from somewhere else…
but either way it happens even in a home they were never in
badinfluencegirl’s last blog post..oh?
It never gets any easier.
We currently have seven cats and a big doofy dog. Over the years, we’ve seen six of our feline companions pass on – Shadow, Merlin, Sassy, Loki, Amos and most recently, Rags – on Christmas Eve, no less.
Each loss tears a hole in your heart, and you’re right – you can’t patch that hole by adopting another cat. You can only contemplate this: the average life expectancy for an “outside” cat is three years; for an “inside” cat, it’s 12-15 years. By giving them a family, you extend their life, and I believe, make them happy as well. As perhaps you know already, stress will literally kill an animal, and not on the installment plan, the way it does with humans.
The time may come when you want to augment your family again. Don’t rush it. If it happens, it happens.
Blessings upon you and yours.
AAG,
I too have lost cats and I too still see them running around as well the new group.
Pete
I’ve had to mourn the loss of many sweet furry (and scaly!) friends. My heart goes out to you and your kids. It’s always easy to second-guess oneself at a time like this. But you have no reason to blame yourself.
And I think it was perfectly acceptable to show your kids the body. I remember my first encounter with the corpse of an animal I knew while it was alive. A rooster I’d chased around the barnyard. I was three. I’ll never forget how fascinating and real it was. I can still see it in my mind’s eye, forty years later.
So sorry about your cats. I think you did great letting your kids say goodbye. I have four cats and though my yowler gets on my last nerve I do enjoy their company.