Yes, I know today is Thanksgiving here in the U.S. and not Memorial Day.  For me, however, I am not feeling particularly Thankful.  My cat, Shadow, died Tuesday morning, adding one more shitty event to this screwed up year.

Although Shadow had not been particularly ill, she was showing signs of poor health.  Her appetite had been decreasing, she was having trouble getting up on things, etc.  Monday night, as I was about to go to bed, I found her laying in the litter box.  She was trying to poop and having problems.  Sam and I cleaned her up and I took her to bed with me.  She was able to move enough to curl up with me and she even changed positions several times.  Her last position, the one she was in when I woke up, was on top of my head.

I got out of bed Tuesday and said good morning to her.  She wagged her tail in response, but otherwise did not move.  I did not think anything of it at first; I knew she had mobility issues.  I did not realize how severe those issues had become.  Sam got up a couple of hours later and said Shadow wasn’t moving.  Closer investigation revealed she was breathing and could twitch her tail, but that was the limit of it.  Her eyes were open and I think she was scared.  I know I would be if I was suddenly unable to move.

So we got ahold of a church friend who took Shadow, Sam and I to the vet, where we euthanized Shadow.  This was one of the saddest moments of my life.

I remember getting Shadow fourteen years ago.  It was either late October or early November.  Sam and I hadn’t gotten together yet, so I don’t have her help to pinpoint the date.  I remember picking her up from a group of rescued kitties at a small pet shop.  She rolled over in my hand, and in that moment I fell in love with her.  There was no option for me at that point.  I paid for her shots (she was otherwise technically free) and went on my merry way with her.

Between then and now she has been my most consistent companion.  There is no other way to describe it.  When I have been home, she’s been home with me.  Almost every single night she would curl up beside me in bed, at least for a little while, and we would cuddle.  She would purr and I would fall asleep.  This includes Monday night.  She is a loud purrer, and although her volume was reduced that night, she very definitely purred a happy purr on her last night with me.

So words fail me.  I cannot describe this loss, anymore than I could describe the loss of Danny earlier this year.  If you haven’t gone through it, you won’t know what it’s like.

Soon, I will get another kitty.  I will name her some derivative of Shadow–probably some foreign translation of the word.  She will be a female kitty and she will be another black cat.

Meanwhile, Shadow is being cremated.  I will be getting a black-cat shaped urn tomorrow or maybe Monday.  The figure will be in a resting position, and will sit beside Danny’s urn.  Rest in peace Shadow.  I miss you terribly.

Shadow