Even when we expect an exit, we’re not entirely ready.
Not emotionally. Not viscerally. And not literarily.
Unlike The New York Times, we don’t pre-write obituaries for our celebrities. There are many reasons for this, among them hope, defiance, and the fact that words and grace are given when they’re needed — not before.
In the case of our latest loss, those words were given to longtime Tabby’s Place volunteer Larry. My thanks to dear Larry for the heartfelt words you’re about to read:
“This past Saturday, we said goodbye to one of Tabby’s Place greatest kitties, Chester.
“There are no words that can explain the love we shared for this kitty. There are no words that can explain the sorrow we shared when it was time to let him go.
“When Chester looked at us with those big, beautiful eyes, we knew we were in a special place, with a special kitty: a place where peace and love are the norm, not the exception, to life’s rules.
“This was true yesterday.
It is true today…
…and it will be true tomorrow.
“As I’d often done before, on Chester’s last day I brought him some of his favorite food. Spending time with Chester was difficult now, because I knew our time together was coming to an end. Because of this, my tears were falling like rain. My whole being kept screaming, No, this is wrong. No, this can’t be happening. No, please, don’t let this happen.
“As always, though, things didn’t stop there. Life does, and will, go on.
“This was made clear when Felix walked up to where we were sitting. Trying to be sneaky, he reached up to steal Chester’s food. I think that was his way of saying, don’t be sad. I will be with you, and everything will be ok.
“That brought a smile to my face.
“Tabby’s Place is still the same, as it was yesterday, and will be tomorrow. It is time to celebrate Chester. It is time to be thankful for the gift that was this wonderful kitty.”
Thank you for mourning, celebrating and living onwards with us, forever richer because of Chester.