Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Gone

Sunspot was gone when I went downstairs at eight-thirty this morning.

She was semi-stretched out under the telephone table--virtually in the same spot where we had lain together Monday night whle she was going through her ordeal with the blood clot. She was already cool to the touch and stiffening.

I can't say this was unexpected. Monday night had put a tremendous strain on her. Still, I had hoped that after coming so close to death and survivng, she would be with us for some months to come.

I hope she didn't suffer. I hope she hadn't sought out that spot where I had comforted her on Monday seeking comfort this morning. I had gone downstairs to get a cold drink about four-thirty this morning and she had been sleeping curled on the floor. I had petted her had said something to her. She hadn't been in any distress then. I have to wonder why she went to that particular spot--maybe she sensed that was where her death had begun...

She had seemed so well, so content, yesterday. In the car, coming home from the vet's office, she was purring, sitting beside me on the armrest and looking at the world going by with interest. When we got home, I fed her some baby food chicken and then she spent most of yesterday afternoon and evening sleeping. She got up while I was cooking supper about ten pm. She wasn't interested in eating but did go over to the water fountain. Afterwards, she went and lay on the carpet between the woodstove and the sofa, before moving over near the telephone table later. If she seemed restless, it wasn't enough to do more than raise subconscious concerns in my mind.

Dots thinks that she may have thrown another clot that went straight to her brain. I hope so--I hope it was quick for her.

I have to take comfort that she had a nice last day and that she went quickly, without a long, painful decline. She kept her faculties and was very much her own cat right until the end. She was never demonstrative nor did she actively seek out attention, but she was appreciative. She was with us for only two years, and our relationship didn't always go smoothly, but I came to appreciate her quiet strength and dignity and her understated affection. Someone else had named her and raised her from a kitten; someone else had enjoyed her youth and maturity--only to abandon her to the animal shelter when she was sixteen years old. I regret that I didn't go downstairs last night and spend time with her, but I was so tired and sore. She knew--in the end--that this was her home. She knew she was loved.

Inseparable from the fire
its light
takes precedence over it ..
In the huge gap
between the flash
and the thunderstroke
spring has come in
or a deep snow fallen...
in an eternity
the heat will not overtake the light.


from Asphodel, That Greeny Flower
by William Carlos Williams

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