Dearest Abalone, I’ve spent a week typing and deleting this post. My eyes all too frequently filling with tears, I tell myself I’ll try the next day. Between the ache of losing you and the knowledge I may have let myself get too attached, I’m filled with worries.
“We can’t lose Donna.” These are the sorts of ridiculous, unrealistic, inappropriate and painful things we say to our vet team at Tabby’s Place.
There are goodbyes so long in coming, we come to expect that they will never come. When they come, they crash through us, a tsunami of tears that tear us to ribbons.
Mid-August did not taste good at Tabby’s Place. Loss upon loss upon pummeling loss left a sour note of unfinished business.
I’m retiring a sentence-starter today. I will hereby no longer start paragraphs and puddles of words with, “Every cat is wonderful/special/incandescent etc., but then there are some…”
Our requests were not granted. Our prayers were answered. Somehow this is all true.
Rumor has it that a certain small, goofy-faced tuxedo cat was adopted in 2009. Rumor has it that she moved with her Momma down to South Carolina. Rumor has it: never was a cat so loved. Ever. It’s ever so much more than a rumor.
Junior Veterinary Technician Jess has loved Katrina, fiercely and faithfully, for over a decade. The feelings and ferocity were entirely mutual. So none but Jess could do Katrina justice on this sad, shocking week. Thanks to Jess for writing so beautifully from the heart, through a haze of tears…
Blessed are the meek. In fact, they shall inherit the earth. Gentleness is victory. Tenderness is triumph. We’ve said it here before, but it bears repeating, as we goofus humans can forget. Cats, though — cats don’t forget. Especially not cats like Zach.