...But That Time Has Come to an End

June 2010 - December 2024

She’s gone. 

Wednesday was really the turning point of going from A Cat with Cancer that Will Kill Her to being A Dying Cat. Hubby was home on Tuesday and Wednesday, so he spent both days in the living room with her. She was energetic enough to sit on the arm of the loveseat so that he could pet her.  

We took her to bed on Wednesday night, and after a few hours, she jumped down from the headboard and trotted over to the treadmill, and she looked like she was looking for a spot. Cat owners know what this means… Cats are very private creatures and look for places to die where they won’t be an inconvenience. So, we thought she was doing that. Hubby followed her around, but then she jumped up onto the shelf in front of the treadmill, where I had a stack of folded laundry. She proceeded to pee all over them. Honestly, I wasn’t even mad – we hadn’t seen her pee in forever! Once she was done, we just cleaned up after her and got her back to the bed. She didn’t have any issues after that, and both of us took turns throughout the night reaching out to pet her and check on her. 

Thursday was a terrible day, because Hubby and I both had to go to work, and Clover would be stuck home alone. Thankfully, we have an indoor security camera, so every so often, one of us would pull up the app and check on her (we did this previously throughout the past week, too). Her breathing was becoming so shallow that there were times when we couldn’t see her move at all. She was still with us when we got home, and as we ate dinner. We moved her to bed with us and watched TV for a few hours. 

I’d been asleep for maybe an hour when she fell off the headboard, right onto my head and shoulder. She scrambled down to the end of the bed and stayed there for a few minutes, gasping. Hubs and I woke up fully and calmed her down. Her blanket was wet (she must have peed again), as was my pillow and the foot of the bed. He swapped out to a fresh blanket while I took care of the pillow, and then got her set up again on the headboard. Within a few minutes, she fell again, right between our pillows. And she didn’t move. I put my hand on her chest and it wasn’t moving. 

She'd finally given in. 

Hubby, who had gone to the bathroom, came back in and saw how I was kind of leaning over the pillows, and said something like give me a minute and we can get her back up on the headboard and I said, no, I don’t think we need to. Even with my back to him, I could feel the weight of those words hit him, and he came around the bed to her. We pet her for a few minutes, thanking her for her life, and telling her that we’d miss her, and that she was such a good girl, and then he picked her up and took her to lay on her blanket by the living room window. 

Friday was miserable. He stayed home, using Bereavement Leave to stay home from work for the weekend. Unfortunately, I had to go in because there was so many things I had to do before a mega-important deadline. Clover was still on the blanket when I got up in the morning (of course, where else would she be?) and as I pet her, realism set in; she was already cold and stiff, really driving home that this was a dead cat, not a sleeping cat. 

It was hard to keep my head on straight as I worked on spreadsheets, but I was able to leave work early, getting home around 2. Hubs had covered Clover with a second blanket, tucked in like she was taking a little nap. We buried her in the side yard, near our bedroom, the opposite side of the property from where we buried Salem. We feel surrounded and protected by both of them. 

Christmas will be quiet and small and melancholy this year. But I’m so very thankful that hubby talked me into decorating. It was always a favorite time for her, and I can still feel her here, among the flickering candles and colorful lights of the tree. 

People who’ve not had pets, people who’ve never loved their pets as a member of their family, they can’t quite grasp how difficult this is, and even I, who love my pets, can’t quite grasp why this is this difficult. You want to shrug and say It’s just a cat but it’s not… It’s so much more than a pet. It’s 14 years of friendship and dead mice and snuggles and meows and stinky cat food and head butts and belly rubs and chases and scratches and purrs and finger licks and unconditional love. 

So as I said earlier, we will, one day, honor her memory by rescuing other cats, as we rescued her, but that won’t be right now. The pain is too real, too fresh… We need time to sit with our grief and feel our feelings and let them settle into a dullness, all the sharp edges rubbed off of them by time. 

Goodbye, my beautiful girl. 

You were such a loved and treasured part of this family, 

and your loss will be felt in innumerable ways within our home, 

now with empty windowsills and unprotected spaces. 

(ETA... I'm actually posting this on December 26th, because every time I come to post this, I just can't... It's like closing a door on her and finally letting go, and even 2 weeks later, I'm not ready to let go yet. I'm sitting here, typing with my eyes closed, with tears running down my face... I can't hit publish because that is the ultimate "It's Over" moment of this whole thing... This is probably the written  version of people who film themselves crying on TikTok, haha... but dammit, I just can't do it...)