I haven’t been the best of updaters this week, I know. I
don’t want to say I have a great excuse, mainly because I don’t like ‘excuses’.
But there is a reason.
Last Friday, I had to say goodbye to my furry four legged
girl.
Her name is
Stella and she was named after the children’s book Stella Luna. And she looked
like Toothless from ‘How To Train Your Dragon’. She was born on St. Patrick’s
day in 2000, so I would never forget her birthday or her age. I won’t go into
detail about adopting her, moving to Los Angeles from Seattle, divorcing and
all that. I’ll tell you she was the smartest cat I’ve ever known. She figured
out how to pull things across a counter with string, she could open doors, she
knew when to wait and when to be calm if she heard me tell her ‘it’s okay’. She
met me at the front door when I came home from work, every night, right up to
the last night I had with her.
We
discovered she had an inoperable carcinoma tumor in her lower bowel, back in
January. When she was initially diagnosed, the vet said, if she was a betting
person, she wouldn’t give her a month. Not only did she last the month, she was
doing better than before she started showing signs of a problem. I was secretly
hoping some crazy miracle happened and suddenly the cancer was gone. But that
wasn’t the case. The vet put her on prednisone,
and the steroid caused all the swelling to go down, so she was doing really
good for a long time. And then, she
wasn’t.
I had decided at the very beginning
that whatever happens, I would only think of Stella first, and try my hardest
to not be selfish. Everyone said I would know, ‘You’ll know. You’ll just know’
When things started to go downhill I wasn’t sure I would know. I don’t want her to go too soon, but I don’t
want her to suffer, she’s still doing things she loves, she still wants to be
brushed, she still meets me at the door every night.
I was sure that I wouldn’t know,
that upset me so much. I just wanted to be there for her and strong for my BF
and an adult about the whole thing.
Suddenly, I did know. It’s a real fine line – and it was quick.
After everything was over, I was
surprised by the one thing I wasn’t expecting to feel – anger. Yes I was sad, I
didn’t feel guilty, I knew I did the right thing. I was pissed off as all hell.
After it happened, I sobbed into my hands, in the passenger seat of my
boyfriend’s car, yelling how badly I didn’t want this to happen. It still gets
me – I didn’t want this, I wanted her to get better, I don’t want her to be
gone. It makes me so angry.
It’s a week later and I still find
myself bursting into tears when my mind starts to wander. This morning it was
because I couldn’t remember if she woke me up by kissing my forehead Friday
morning or Thursday morning. Sometimes it’s because I think Cleo (the younger
furry girl) misses her too. But usually
my heart sinks every time I open my front door, coming home from work, and
there’s no one there to meet me.
