Showing posts with label pet death. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pet death. Show all posts

Monday, November 1, 2010

The whole block is mourning

Samie reclining on her cat-nipped scratching post.
Samie was a special cat and the most sociable kitty I'd ever owned. In the three years we were involved, she lived at four different addresses and was never troubled by relocating.

She'd go out immediately and start making new friends. jumping over fences, scaling trees and exploring gardens.

By 11 a.m. Saturday, everyone on the street had learned of her demise, perhaps having heard the weeping and wailing emanating from my little apartment. It is incredible how the sudden event affected me physically, like a fatal blow to the solar plexus. I canceled all weekend plans, including Halloween, and spent all day Saturday, lying on the couch in my pajamas, crying. Two friends came by to sit and talk. We covered many topics, including the fragility of life and the specialness of kitties.

Within 24 hours, I passed through the Kubler-Ross cycle of grief a couple of times. My poor brain kept trying to figure out how I could undo the damage, place blame or remake the past, but no go. My neighbor said she wouldn't have known Sweet Peas were toxic. She had ordered them before for Ralph. One of the other cats that dug in the garden was still okay - I wondered if the medication Samie got last week to reduce a swollen lip had made her more vulnerable. Who knows?

Strangely, she'd never ventured that far down the block before last week and probably wouldn't have spent so much time in Ralph's yard had he not minded her when I went away for a few days last month. There were several coincidental factors that aligned to take her from me.

I decided to drive across Lake Pontchartrain to Fountainbleau State Park on Sunday to walk in the woods and sit beside the bayou. It feels incredibly peaceful there, listening to the ducks and frogs while dragonflies buzz overhead. A woman and her young daughter were looking through the binoculars when my cell phone rang. I told her I was mourning my cat and we started talking about the pets we'd lost. She told me a story about her Husky who died when she was on a camping trip - she'd sensed something and returned home in the middle of the night. Standing there on the dock, years later, tears started rolling down her cheeks. It's amazing how much animals can come to mean. They are our greatest friends and supporters.

On my way out the door, I had run into Mr. and Mrs. Singh, the Indian couple from Mumbai. Mr. Singh shook his head and told me it was God's will. I should be happy because it was meant to be, or something like that. Mrs. Singh can't speak English, but rubbed my back, sympathetically.

I thought about Mr. Singh's philosophy of life. He probably believes Samie will be reincarnated. I like that idea a lot, because she was a fantastic kitty and would probably come back as something much better. But right now I can't imagine how she could be any better than she already was.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

New Orleans is less joyful tonight

I've often thought I wouldn't know what I'd do if I lost my little Samie. That kitty brought me so much joy. But she was only about 4 and I thought we had lots of time together yet.

Last night, she didn't come home or come when I called. I woke up three times during the night and opened front and back doors. She had started sitting in the treehouse I bought a couple of years ago to watch me through the back window, but there was no sign of her. At 5 a.m., I got up and walked up and down the block, looking and calling.

After going to the 8:30 workout at health club, I walked the neighborhood again and checked the back shed to see if she could have gotten locked inside. I found her lying on the floor, lifeless. She'd been sneezing the last couple of days, but I hadn't thought much of it - she didn't seem sick. The Internet said sneezes indicate a minor respiratory infection that should take care of itself.

But I am guessing it was Inoculant, the pesticide my landlord mixed with his Sweet Pea seeds on Wednesday. Once the ground was loosened, she'd started digging in his garden. I wasn't thinking how dangerous that could be for a little, 10# cat. I was thinking more about how she was messing up his seed. And I actually ordered the Sweet Peas and inoculant myself online, so I feel like an accomplice.

I am inconsolable. I know the answer is to get another cat as soon as possible. The world is full of kitties nobody wants. But this one was so special. Samie was the only cat who actually kissed me on the lips and lightly bit my nose to say she loved me. She could actually stand on her hind legs to beg for a treat like a dog. When I'd call her name, she'd come running full tilt down the street. She was affectionate and also independent - a lover not a fighter.

And who knows what her real name was? She appeared at my back door three years ago and insisted upon moving in. She claimed me as her own. My best friend, Samie, was never a bother and without a single bad habit. I feel so guilty I let her outdoors even though she loved to roam.

I hope she's roaming kitty heaven now and forgives me for my negligence. I am sorry for her, but even sorrier for myself.