Saying Goodbye To Our Feline Family Member
Friday morning. I lit a candle at 9:58am. It flickered and waned, and then a diminutive flame climbed the braided cotton strand.
As shadows abated, I thought of another household in another county, 49 miles southwest, where my nephew and his wife were struggling with a big decision that involved their pet cat.
Ariya had chosen them to be part of her family many years earlier. And Ariya had chosen well.
For the past month, Ariya had battled mysterious health issues that baffled her primary care providers. The underlying cause(s) and how to remedy has perplexed her veterinary team and her family.
Back in my warm enclave, as I watched shadows sway, I said a prayer for Ariya and her family. She made me think of the menagerie of creatures that have impacted my life: dogs, cats, horses, goldfish, guinea pigs, a hermit crab, and a squirrel named Livvie. I thought of how my life was enhanced by them, how I had rescued some, some had rescued me, and how we alternated needing one another in various ways.
I thought of the times that I would come home from a stressful day and find solace in just being with Warrior, my favorite horse. He would rest his head on my shoulder and nuzzle against me. He was big and gentle and provided amazing therapy.
I thought of the time I received a phone call bearing bad news just as I was letting Spencer, my 3-month-old puppy out of his crate. I sank to the floor, cross-legged, and buried my face in my hands. My golden retriever puppy climbed into my lap, gently nudging and licking my salty tears. When a sob hiccupped out of me, Spencer started to cry too. I’ll never forget that moment, both of us crying on the floor. He had no idea why we were upset, but he was all in. We let our sentiments recede and then Spennie encouraged an attitude adjustment. Sometimes a walk with a friend helps us assemble our thoughts and rebalance our emotions.
I thought of this morning, when I headed out to our snow-covered yard to refill our bird feeders and to toss peanuts across the icy sidewalk. As I stepped outside, I prayed fervently that a neighbor or a delivery driver didn’t cross paths with me: I had on bunny foot pajamas and my husband’s size 13 snow boots.
Despite my silly get-up, the woodland creatures recognized me, the world transformed from country-quiet to a chirpy symphony. My heart soars seeing the diversity of birds, wing to wing, that have gifted me their trust. Multitudes fluttered down from their pine perches as I walked amid them, as if on a Walt Disney set.
Our animals provide us with so much joy; they help combat stress, they are our companions, our therapy creatures, they help edge out loneliness, they make us laugh, and there’s never a shortage of ice-breaker conversations that any pet owner or animal lover can pull out of their back pocket.
Anyone that has ever had a pet or loves animals understands the bittersweet connections that we meld. When the time comes to say goodbye to a loved one, the pain is what makes us human. My nephew beautifully stated, “I’d rather endure and feel the grief and the heartache than to be unbothered by it”.
I agree. I choose to remember the good, the laughs, the joys. The pain we feel is a reminder of the love we shared.
Friday afternoon, 4:02pm the candle was quietly extinguished, its light fading into a tender farewell.
