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lucifersprizeIt's been a tough couple of weeks. When you take on rescues and older pets, you don't stop to consider, how long? Or what happens when thay all hit old age together. I had considered, at the beginning of the year, that aside from Radar, all my pets are OLD, some ancient, others respectably into senior years. I still wasn't prepared to lose two in quick succession in unexpected order. I don't want to dwell on my grief, it is secondary to the true wonder these sweet souls brought to us.
We lost Cream first, it turned out his cancer had returned as an internal mass, but he was a fine old age for a gerbil, regardless. He was his usual happy, bouncy self, right until the last day. He loved life, he adored his brother. He was a comedian, a protective big brother, a vandal and an enthusiastic tunnel engineer. In fact he was enthusiastic about everything. He could make me smile, even laugh, on some of my worst days. The day before he died I snapped this photo of Cream and Cookie snoozing in a patch of sunlight. They had such a special bond.
He died peacefully, curled up on my chest and Cookie missed him fiercely at first, but he has adjusted. I coped because Cookie coped and my focus has to be on him now, because gerbils are highly bonded social animals and he is too old to bond him with another gerbil. I need to be there for him.
This weekend is what knocked me utterly for six. My younger cat, Tiesha went out in Storm Dennis (he freaking loved storms). Yes, he was technically old (15 1/2) and we knew he had some sort of neurological condition but he happily jumped our five foot fence and played with anything that blew past him in the wind. I went to let him in an hour later and he didn't come to my call (he always did). I went out and found him in the pouring rain, crying outside a neighbour's door. Okay,I thought, a senior moment, a bit like the old lady in slippers wandering down the road. Except his confusion didn't truly clear up and then his legs gave way and it became obvious that he had suffered a major stroke. He wasn't in serious pain, though he was frustrated and angry that he couldn't get up, or coordinate. Knowing how vet visits traumatise him, and that after the many tests and scans he's endured, there is nothing they can do, I made a pact with him, that I would give him the night at home and he could slip away on his own terms but if he was still struggling in the morning, then he would need the vet.
Defiant and independant to the last, Tiesha took his last breath, in my arms, a few minutes before the vet opened this morning. Lili cat, at 23years old, is still here and being my rock. I never imagined losing Tiesha before Lili, though I am so darn grateful to have her by my side.
So, I have another goodbye to say, in fact the whole family mourns the kitten who stole my heart the day we stole his mother and her kittens from an abusive home in the rough end of Glasgow.
( 8 months old)
Goodbye Friend. You grew up with this family, intertwined with the children who grew up too fast and moved away as you slowed and gained grey fur flecks. They loved to come back to you. You were my intrepid explorer, mouser extraordinaire, dirty stop out, hedge snoozer, confidant and kitten tutor. The most chilled out, black-as-night (except for the Summer, when honestly - rather ginger) cat. You were the sweetest and gentlest soul, who somehow knew precisely who needed you most and went to them full of unconditional love and cuddles. The children's teenage years were busy for your unerring empathy. You were a friend, a playmate, a therapist, and a protector to all the family, including our tiniest pets. And yes, you were so damn handsome too. You came to us at a time of darkness and turmoil, on the very cusp of change, bringing your own bright ray of sunshine to chase it away. You were truly family. Rest in eternal sunshine with some blowy gusts and leaves to chase. Our Tiesha cat. xxx
The strange, related occurence has given me a little comfort. I am sure there is 'science' behind it, but I'd rather not know it. For Tiesh's final journey to the pet crematorium I picked a crocus bud from one of his favourite sun-spots in the garden. None are flowering yet but buds are nevertheless beautiful too.
See?
Within seconds of placing it on Tiesha, the petals opened and it bloomed entirely. Just a strange, beautiful and comforting message. I think the image of it happening will stay with me forever. Thank you, Tiesh, you always knew how to make me feel better. I took a pic, not to be morbid but just - wow.
There is yet another story which unfolded in all this, a tragic one that played out in 2012 and I did not find out until I tried my google fu yesterday, looking for that brave, wonderful person who took me to Glasgow to rescue Tiesha, Molly and Button in 2006. To, Yvonne, if you are out there, just know that what you did made a real difference to this kitten and to this family. There are so many good memories. I hope your demons have faded with time.
We lost Cream first, it turned out his cancer had returned as an internal mass, but he was a fine old age for a gerbil, regardless. He was his usual happy, bouncy self, right until the last day. He loved life, he adored his brother. He was a comedian, a protective big brother, a vandal and an enthusiastic tunnel engineer. In fact he was enthusiastic about everything. He could make me smile, even laugh, on some of my worst days. The day before he died I snapped this photo of Cream and Cookie snoozing in a patch of sunlight. They had such a special bond.
He died peacefully, curled up on my chest and Cookie missed him fiercely at first, but he has adjusted. I coped because Cookie coped and my focus has to be on him now, because gerbils are highly bonded social animals and he is too old to bond him with another gerbil. I need to be there for him.
This weekend is what knocked me utterly for six. My younger cat, Tiesha went out in Storm Dennis (he freaking loved storms). Yes, he was technically old (15 1/2) and we knew he had some sort of neurological condition but he happily jumped our five foot fence and played with anything that blew past him in the wind. I went to let him in an hour later and he didn't come to my call (he always did). I went out and found him in the pouring rain, crying outside a neighbour's door. Okay,I thought, a senior moment, a bit like the old lady in slippers wandering down the road. Except his confusion didn't truly clear up and then his legs gave way and it became obvious that he had suffered a major stroke. He wasn't in serious pain, though he was frustrated and angry that he couldn't get up, or coordinate. Knowing how vet visits traumatise him, and that after the many tests and scans he's endured, there is nothing they can do, I made a pact with him, that I would give him the night at home and he could slip away on his own terms but if he was still struggling in the morning, then he would need the vet.
Defiant and independant to the last, Tiesha took his last breath, in my arms, a few minutes before the vet opened this morning. Lili cat, at 23years old, is still here and being my rock. I never imagined losing Tiesha before Lili, though I am so darn grateful to have her by my side.
So, I have another goodbye to say, in fact the whole family mourns the kitten who stole my heart the day we stole his mother and her kittens from an abusive home in the rough end of Glasgow.
( 8 months old)Goodbye Friend. You grew up with this family, intertwined with the children who grew up too fast and moved away as you slowed and gained grey fur flecks. They loved to come back to you. You were my intrepid explorer, mouser extraordinaire, dirty stop out, hedge snoozer, confidant and kitten tutor. The most chilled out, black-as-night (except for the Summer, when honestly - rather ginger) cat. You were the sweetest and gentlest soul, who somehow knew precisely who needed you most and went to them full of unconditional love and cuddles. The children's teenage years were busy for your unerring empathy. You were a friend, a playmate, a therapist, and a protector to all the family, including our tiniest pets. And yes, you were so damn handsome too. You came to us at a time of darkness and turmoil, on the very cusp of change, bringing your own bright ray of sunshine to chase it away. You were truly family. Rest in eternal sunshine with some blowy gusts and leaves to chase. Our Tiesha cat. xxx
The strange, related occurence has given me a little comfort. I am sure there is 'science' behind it, but I'd rather not know it. For Tiesh's final journey to the pet crematorium I picked a crocus bud from one of his favourite sun-spots in the garden. None are flowering yet but buds are nevertheless beautiful too.
See?Within seconds of placing it on Tiesha, the petals opened and it bloomed entirely. Just a strange, beautiful and comforting message. I think the image of it happening will stay with me forever. Thank you, Tiesh, you always knew how to make me feel better. I took a pic, not to be morbid but just - wow.
There is yet another story which unfolded in all this, a tragic one that played out in 2012 and I did not find out until I tried my google fu yesterday, looking for that brave, wonderful person who took me to Glasgow to rescue Tiesha, Molly and Button in 2006. To, Yvonne, if you are out there, just know that what you did made a real difference to this kitten and to this family. There are so many good memories. I hope your demons have faded with time.
