Although I have
loved many animals in my life, my little golden male kitty and I
had a special connection. It was as though we needed to be together, needed
to be hugging, needed to be "talking"...needed each other
to balance our lives.
In his later years
he declined due to hyperthyroidism and kidney failure and I administered LRS
SQ to keep him hydrated and prescription meds for his thyroid and
heart. We went to acupuncture sessions, where he received vitamin B12
injections at acupuncture points.
He lost weight
towards the end, but his appetite remained (he always had a love for
food) which served him during his decline. He lost his sight at one
point, becoming even more dependent on me. He became constipated at times,
so we would go for warm soaks. He even allowed me to diaper him
before I left the house for work, as though he understood that he would
not have to search for the litter box.
The day I heard him
call for me, as I came to my door after a day at work, I knew the end
was near. He was lying on his side in front of the heater and I swept him
into my arms.
My golden boy lived
to nineteen-and-a-half years old (his sister lived to twenty-and-a-half). It
was during a time when cat food came mostly from the grocery
shelf...not like today.
He died in my arms
with night and darkness around us. In the end, I told him if
he needed to leave, he should go and his breath grew slower and slower. My
heart was shredding inside of me. The pain was the worst I had ever felt.
When he stopped
breathing, his mouth opened slightly. I went to close it and his heart and
breath came again. In my state of mind, I thought, he wants to live...maybe
he still can...even though I knew that was a preposterous idea. He died
then, and I heard the sound of the ocean wash through him, as
though his soul were rushing to a glorious after-life. I held him after that
for a very long time.
I drove many miles
with my kitty's body. My sister met me at the half way point and we drove
more miles so my little golden kitty could have a private cremation. We
waited. The man was kind. I took the love of my life back home in a small
tin box.
I loved this kitty
more than I have loved most, and I know he loved me. The great thing is what
he showed me. He showed me what unconditional love was. He showed me that I
was capable of unconditional love. It was an honor and a privilege to take
care of him; to be there for him. I could not have done it any other way. It
wouldn't have mattered a bit whether or not he loved me. My love for him was
so huge it was enough, and it has taken me along the road of my life. He
lives on. I will see him again. I know I will.
