Wise Kitty Words

I know you're sad Momma, but you're not listening to me:

I guess I need to spell it out to you:

See how far I will go to remind you what you need to do?

In Case You Were Wondering:

Tigger still has his beautiful belly spots!

Wordless Wednesday

A Pet Grief Observed: Part 2

Donovan's ashes return today and my heart is heavy. I've never cremated a pet before and I'm overwhelmed with indecision. Do I spread her ashes somewhere? No, she would never want to be back outside. She loved having a home and living inside. Do I buy an urn? If so, what kind do I get? The vet explained her ashes will be in a simple wood box. Donovan loved simple. Maybe I should keep the simple box... but I want to honor Donovan in some way that captures the treasure she was to me.

I've been reading about ways to memorialize your pet. Some suggest planting a tree. I do need to replace a palm tree in the back yard. Should I have a new one installed in her honor? All I can think about is what if that palm tree dies? My previous palm tree planting experience has only yielded a 50% success rate. I don't want to deal with a tree for Donovan dying. Others recommend donating money in the pet's memory to a non-kill shelter or animal rescue group. I like that idea. Having a painting or drawing of your pet commissioned sounds nice too. Creating a memory box is another good thought.

Thus far I haven't been able to part with much of anything that had to do with Donovan. I did empty and clean her litterbox, but broke down and cried. The finality of her never using the box again hit me hard. I threw away her unused dry food but will donate her remaining can food to an animal rescue group. I still have her favorite toys and blankets which I will undoubtedly add to her memory box.

What I have to say next, may enter the creepy phase of memory tokens. Some background information is warranted. I loved Donovan's fur. She had such an unusual coat in that the black section of her fur was white underneath. Each individual black strand of her fur was half black and half white. I spent a lot of time brushing Donovan. It was a great way for us to bond and spend quality one on one time together. With all that said, I saved several strands of Donovan's fur and put it in a small decorative bottle. I don't know if that borders on unusual or odd, but I wanted to keep part of her as she was and also wanted to always be able to see her beautiful fur.

At times, I still find myself looking for her or talking to her. My life is simply not the same without her. I'm afraid to pick up her ashes today at the vet. I miss petting her. I miss holding her. I miss her. I miss her love.

Sad Abbi

Momma I don't want to play, I miss Donovan:

Missing Donovan

A heartbreaking aspect of Donovan's death is no longer experiencing all of the unique things that made Donovan who she was. For instance, my dad and I go to lunch together 5 days a week. Miss Donovan adored her Pappy and looked forward to his arrival with a silly, dreamy expression on her face:

She was always underfoot rubbing her face and entire body against his legs as he walked to the armoire where I kept her treats:

Oh how she loved treat time with Pappy:

Next came the patented Pappy massage. Donovan would always lay on top of one of her mouse toys, purr like a maniac, and either knead or dig her claws into the carpet / blanket in pure delight:

She was always sad to see him leave:

I miss this lunch routine and my Donovan so very much.



A Pet Grief Observed: Part 1

Today is the one week anniversary of Donovan's passing. I still cry every day missing my sweet girl. I  still question whether I did the right thing for her or not. I still feel lost without her.

My prayer is that I will be reunited with her again one day.

Perhaps continuing to write candidly about Donovan and how difficult it was to lose her will help me with my grief and maybe even help someone else. If you know anything about me, you know I love animals and for some reason God instilled a particular love for felines in my heart.

The most prevalent emotion I most often feel, other than obvious sadness, is guilt. The reason I took Donovan to the vet on that Thursday was because she hadn't been eating well for about two weeks. She wanted to eat and would start with such fervor, but then she would give up rather quickly. Her beloved treats would go uneaten or they would fall out of her mouth in crumbs. I also noticed she wasn't licking right nor grooming well. Something was wrong with her tongue. My first thought was she must have a sore in her mouth. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she's had prior issues with her kidneys?

I wasn't prepared for the vet to say oral cancer. When he examined her mouth and cast me a disturbed look, I still thought she simply had a sore in her mouth. He asked me to take a look and although I definitely saw a very inflamed, large "thing" under her tongue I stupidly thought it was just an irritation that would go away with medicine. As I heard the word "cancer" a fog settled in my brain and it started raining questions: Why didn't I bring her in sooner?  How could I have missed that? Why didn't I sense there was something seriously wrong? I felt like I let her down. After all the promises I had made to love her and take care of her, I had failed her.

One of my greatest struggles is remembering the car ride to the vet with her. Donovan hated the car and had a great fear of abandonment. As she cried her fear meows, I kept telling her it would be alright and that I would stay with her. I repeatedly said:

"I'll bring you back home sweetheart."
"I will not leave you."
"I love you so much my brave girl."

I lied to her. I did not bring her home that day. She trusted me. That guilt haunts me.

Many people have tried to convince me I did the right thing by putting her down that day, but I'll always wonder if it would have been better to bring her back home. I unequivocally did not want her to suffer and I felt an enormous need to protect her, but was I simply not strong enough to allow her to die on her terms? My mom tells me I let her go back to her true home with her Creator and that she will always be at home in my heart. I sure hope she's right.

I'm so sorry Donovan if I did the wrong thing; please never doubt my love for you.