Its taken me the better part of two weeks to be able to put this down in words, but as you may know, my poor kitty, Persia, was sick and at the vet 2 weeks ago. On the Friday evening, I received a call from the vet to tell me she had tested positive for FIP, which is a fatal virus that 70% of cats dont survive. He had said that they has been treating her for it since she arrived on the Tuesday prior and that they would continue treating until the following Monday. If no improvement by the Monday, we’d have to make a decision on what to do. This devastated me. I sat in my sister garden crying my eyes out for ages, and then laying on her bed staring into space for hours after that – how had this happened to my cat?
At 8am on the Saturday morning, I got a call from the vet which I missed. As soon as I saw the number when I picked up my phone, my heart dropped into my stomach. I dialed back, spoke to vet and heard the words that broke my heart…my poor, sweet girl had passed away in the night. She had just been too sick.
I cant explain how I felt after that. I am sure any person who has lost someone close to them would know – I am not saying that a cat is a person, but my cat was my family…she was never just “a cat” to me. She was every bit a part of my life, as real to me as any one of my human family members, and I miss her so very much.
I have been struggling to cope with the fact that she became so ill and passed away so quickly. I mean, one minute she was fine, the next she was gone. I guess that’s how life and death works though.
Jean and I went to see her that Saturday afternoon to say our goodbyes – it was one of the worst moments of my life thus far. The amount of pain, heartache, emptiness, despair, sorrow. I cant even explain it. I said to Jean that it felt like it was my fault because we had wanted to let them outside and not 4 months after moving into a house with a garden she had gotten sick and died. At least I have solace in the fact that we gave her the best life that we could; that we rescued her from a terrible shelter fate; that she was loved and loved us (as best a cat can – but I have no doubt that she did).
Jemima has been missing her sister cat – she meows a lot for no reason and is particularly affectionate and needy – even to me, whom she usually runs away from.
I read a great blog quote the other day that explained this all very well:
There are heart cats, and there are soul cats. Both are wonderful.
A soul cat, in the words of artist-writer Joyce Fredericks L’Heureaux, is “a sensitive, warm companion…affectionate and moody personality; the soft and gentle friend who reminds us that it is okay to be ourselves.”
These are the cats who become our kindred spirits. Losing them is much like losing a second self, and we don’t get over the loss. There is no statute of limitations on grief over a cat, any more than there is on grief over a human.
Rest is Peace, my little Mungo. I miss you every day.