Tag sorrow

I had a different post scheduled for today. But yesterday was a heartbreaking day. I wonder when I’ll stop crying.

Our precious kitten (seven months old)  died yesterday, HIs name was Rambo and you can read about two people who never wanted a pet, much less a cat, ended up with one here. 

When he showed up at the edge of the woods, it’s like he chose us.

We only had him for six months. He was a feral cat and because he was so young when we got him, he probably didn’t get a good start in life.  And the thing it our love for him took us by surprise. We never expected to get so attached. Never say never, right?

It was a little after noon and I heard my husband yelling for me from the mudroom. I ran out there to see him holding Rambo who was convulsing.  “He’s dying”, my husband cried.

I immediately called the vet to say we were bringing him in. He died before we even got to the back door.

We buried him in my garden.

We always just kind of knew we wouldn’t have him for long. He almost died in December and at that time the vet seemed to suggest that he might have something wrong with him. We chose not to go through expensive testing for what would probably end up to be leukemia. There is also a disease that plagues some kittens, called “wasting kitten” disease. It could have been that as well. He had vomited a couple of times last week but kittens do that and he was acting as crazy as usual.

We had decided last December when we brought him home from the vet that we would just enjoy what time we had with him. And we did.

He seemed to be a little thinner the last few weeks and not eating as much. I think that was a little forewarning.

I wasn’t going to write about him so soon, but here I am. I know everyone loves their pets but we just never expected to, so that made his death all that much harder. Plus, it was traumatic. We never dreamed we would fall so in love with a pet, one we thoroughly intended to find another home for. But we did.

He filed a big void for me in particular. I was so used to caring for my mom and I missed that. He made us laugh and I needed to laugh. He kept me busy because he was constantly strewing things around.

His death reminds me how fragile this life is. It reminds me the greater the love, the greater the pain. There’s a part of me that wishes I had never rescued him. There’s another part of me that would have had it no other way.

But mostly it reminds me that with love comes pain. With life comes death. That heartache is as much a part of life has happiness is. I am missing my little guy beyond what I would have thought possible. Please think of me if you’ve ever lost a pet. I never understood people who grieved over an animal.

I do now.

Here’s the last couple of pictures I took of him. He liked to have devotions with me.

 

He liked to cuddle with me.

In case you’re wondering, no, we are not going out and getting another cat. But as I reread this post before it was published, I realize that could change. There is something about caring for another living being, there’s something about purring, there’s something about having to close every drawer and door, there’s something about practically tripping over one, there’s something about laughing at their antics that I’m not sure we’re ready to close the door on. Not for a while though. We want to grieve this one.

Rambo was truly unique. He was extremely lovable for a cat. He cuddled under the blanket at night with us when we watched TV. He followed us around like a puppy. When we said, “Time to eat, Rambo”, he would come running. He waited outside our bedroom door till we got up in the morning. If one of us got up before the other one, he would “love up” that early riser and then come back and wait for the other one of us. (That was always me, by the way.) It was crazy how “uncatlike” he was.

He loved us as much as we loved him.

Besides, it is not a good time in our life for a pet now anyway and had I not rescued him that day, we most certainly would not have gone out and adopted one.But he stole our hearts and he can’t be easily replaced. Maybe next year after we’ve completed a couple big trips we were planning.

As I write, I can’t wait till it’s time to go to bed so I can forget this day. My husband says the same thing.

God bless.