Death, you are not my friend.
In fact, I hate you.
I want you to take your greedy little hands and go away from here.
You take...you change things...you leave a hollow void behind.
You are not "a blessing", you are not okay because "he lived a good, long life".
Inside, I am throwing a tantrum. I am slamming my fists, I am screaming, "It's not fair!".
Another part of me is just overwhelmed by sadness and loss.
I am enveloped by the pain. My stomach is in knots, I feel nauseous.
My tears have etched ridges on the side of my eyes.
Yet another part of me reminds myself to be grateful for all the moments I did have, and for this special closeness I was granted.
This very very special angel that came into my life, and stayed three months short of 19 years.
And hopefully, eventually, this numbness will soften into a peace.
All I know is my love for Terry is so huge as to cover the earth.
If only I had special powers, if only I could perform miracles, I would have kept him here by my side forever.
I can only pray that Heaven exists, and that God lets animals in the gates.
Knowing I will see him again gives me hope.
Some people don't like animals, and don't have pets.
Others say they like animals, but treat their pets as backyard ornaments.
Some people love their pets, but on the same level that one loves a favorite piece of furniture--it's great, but if something happens to it, well, life goes on.
For me, it's an entirely different experience.
Being a pet sitter, obviously bringing joy to animals is my primary focus.
I love the pets I watch.
Nothing makes me happier than seeing a dog smile.
But my heart always beat the strongest for Terry.
A boyfriend gave me Terry in 1991, for Valentine's Day.
I had a fluffy gray male cat at the time, and had asked for a companion to match. Literally.
I asked for a long-haired, gray, female kitten.
It was pretty funny that what I received was just the opposite--a short-haired, black, male that was four months old.
But the truth was that he was the best cat on the planet. I have had cats my whole life, and I love cats, I know cats, but Terry was extraordinary.
Sweet sweet sweet.
Would climb on my shoulder and purr.
Would sleep under the covers with me and snuggle.
A little spirit companion.
For some of us, our pets are our friends, companions, rock, support...and family.
I called him my "super special angel kitty".
He was my "bear bear" for almost 19 years.
I am so so thankful for having had him in my life--and that is what I am trying to hold on to....the positives, the gratefulness.
Because to wish him to go on forever is thinking of my own selfishness.
But it is just so damn hard.
I verge one moment on falling apart, so the next I am in zombie mode to protect myself.
So many people don't understand. He was "only" a cat, they think.
But how sad for them that they haven't experienced a connection with an animal, because that connection is a truly magical thing.
Terry definitely lived all his nine lives--two or three times he just missed death's grasp after urinary tract problems, hyper thyroid, raspy breathing, and high blood pressure.
There were multiple trips to emergency over the years.
Trips to the vet on holidays.
Over a year ago a vet told me he didn't expect him to live more than a few months. I am so glad that vet was wrong.
When I would be gone for extended times house-sitting, he would deteriorate a bit. He always revived when I came home.
Imagine my guilt when I was caring for someone else's cat last week, in someone else's home, when my own was dying.
It's so hard to juggle life and bills and still give adequate attention to family, friends, and our pets.
I try so so hard, but always question if I've done enough.
I found a new vet who is more loving and understanding.
She said listen to him, and he'll tell you when it's time to go.
She said he hung on this long because he wanted to stay with me.
God that makes me cry every time.
Right now I am just holding on by a thread.
Prayer gives me a life vest.
previous posts about Terry
here,
here,
here, and
here.
Labels: dear diary, pets
