Friday, November 30, 2019

Our cat, Leo, died earlier this week. Our lightfooted and athletic kitty started showing her age gradually, all of the sudden with a round-the-clock sleep schedule then, a stiff walk, and inability to jump on our laps without help. Week she had to be helped to her food dish The final, her cat box then, and then the veterinarian arrived and put her to rest. I can’t stand euphemisms, but I like the term “euthanize” even less.

Andrew dug a deep hole in the garden, and we put her there. It had been one of the saddest times for my me and my husband. We received Leo from a friend whenever we were living jointly in 1997 first. A year old Leo was just, a kitten mostly. She loved to be snuggled, and she was so difficult to put down I would wrap her in a huge scarf that I then tied to my chest muscles, and carry her around like a baby.

That’s weird, I know. Leo would lay there until she fell asleep, and i quickly would hang her on the hinged door knob and she’d continue steadily to sleep there. She’d come when called, very un-catlike in that real way. When my husband and I would walk down to our local business district for supper or errands, she’d stalk us for four blocks until we got to a busy intersection, and she would wait until we walked back there.

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Sometimes that would be an hour or more. Leo also followed me to the studio almost every day until the past couple of years when she lost curiosity about being outside all the time. I never worried about her knocking stuff over, she was so delicate to her surroundings. She would post up on shelves, or next to glaze buckets, or on the floor next to her food dish, willing me with her penetrating stare to perform home and get her more food. I usually do because Leo was very difficult to say “no” to. There is onetime where she made a miscalculation and and didn’t quite make it up to the next shelf she was jumping for.

She swung, monkey-like, claws dug into the shelf she was looking to get up to, and knocked over an enormous vase I put done for 4 hours just, shattering it. I grabbed her, and wanted to shake her, but how will you really punish a kitty? I put her outside and slammed the hinged door.

She offered me about quarter-hour to recuperate and then started meowing to let her back in. Of course, I did so. I’ve been dealing with overpowering sadness all week. There is certainly something particularly poignant and painful about dropping a pet. You are likely to consider them, to take care of them, but there is a communication gap.