It seemed wrong, we should have been at Brittany's side. Brittany was sleeping, dying, Sally was rushing to the vets for a cardboard coffin, and I was holding a shovel looking for a place to dig a grave. Chynna, Brittany's sister, was buried nearby 15 months ago and we wanted them to be next to each other but I couldn't find her. It'd been too long since I'd been there and with all the weeds and bushes...Then I remembered writing about Chynna, a turn in the fence. I found her. I felt bad I hadn't been there in so long but there was no time to dwell on it. It would be dark soon, Brittany might die tonight, and our jobs start early. I pointed the shovels blade at the ground, slammed my foot into it's shoulder, and felt it bite into the earth.
Ten years ago, I'd just met Sally. Brittany and Chynna would hide when I visited. I couldn't remember which cat was which at first but eventually I did.
I can't remember the moment I fell in love with Sally, but I did, head over heels, banners snapping in the wind fell in love. I also began to love the cats.Chynna. Big sleepy Chynna. Everything about her belied a soul, a pure gentle one. Brittany, almost cunning, relentlessly pursuing some goal like food, escape, Sally's affection, or just mischief. Her alertness and awareness showed in her actions and in her eyes.
Life was good. Sitting with my love, a cat on the rug and another on the arm of a couch.
The earth seemed to try to resist the shovel, stubbornly. Each thrust met with a root or a rock. This distracted, or rather focused me. I was "fixing a hole...to stop my mind from wandering where" it feared going. I took care to make edges flat and corners square but every now and then, the context crept in to my mind...she's still alive...or is she?...you can't remember how big the coffins are...is Sally ok?...what's taking her so long...etc. I heard a bird make a gurgling sound. I heard this when we carried Chynna here over a year ago.
For days, we'd been giving her 4 doses of medicine each day, squirting them down her throat with a syringe. Sometimes she got extra water this way too. I work close by so I'd take breaks to check on her and give her water and medication. It seemed to help at first but things went downhill despite our efforts. Earlier yesterday, when I was trying to give her water she resisted, pulling her head away and pushing with her paws.
I could see expression in her face, exasperation and exhaustion. I said "no more no more". She understood and relaxed on the floor. I petted her emaciated body as gently as I could. No more insults of syringes, injections, thermometers,... She was 19, her decision demanded my respect. I knew then. I just knew.
Late last night, Sally kissed her, told her she loved her, and cried over her. She knew too.
I feel guilty that we slept but we were exhausted this had drained us day after day.
I woke up in the dark, my consciousness thick and slow but then remembered. I got out of bed quietly and checked her. At first I saw no movement in her chest but then thought I did for a moment, but I was wrong. My friend wasn't breathing anymore. I picked her up to put her in the box and held her against me as I began to walk away with her. I didn't realzie sally was awake until I heard her ask, "Is she alive?"
I carried her stiff body lightly against my chest and whispered. I said something, I think is was "I love you" but I'm not sure. I put her in the coffin and waited for dawn to pass. A bird sang at 6:02. Shortly after that, I heard the sighs of traffic rushing by in the distance. The world was awakening. Brittany would not wake up today.
We buried her before the sun came up, quickly and unceremoniously. Before we left for work, I opened the refrigerator to get our lunches and saw so many pouches and cans of catfood that Sally had tried to get Brittany to eat. As we walked out, I looked at ribbons hanging from a kitchen drawer-Brittany used to play with them. I reached for them and felt them slide through my fingers as I walked past.
Ten years ago, I'd just met Sally. Brittany and Chynna would hide when I visited. I couldn't remember which cat was which at first but eventually I did.
I can't remember the moment I fell in love with Sally, but I did, head over heels, banners snapping in the wind fell in love. I also began to love the cats.Chynna. Big sleepy Chynna. Everything about her belied a soul, a pure gentle one. Brittany, almost cunning, relentlessly pursuing some goal like food, escape, Sally's affection, or just mischief. Her alertness and awareness showed in her actions and in her eyes.
Life was good. Sitting with my love, a cat on the rug and another on the arm of a couch.
The earth seemed to try to resist the shovel, stubbornly. Each thrust met with a root or a rock. This distracted, or rather focused me. I was "fixing a hole...to stop my mind from wandering where" it feared going. I took care to make edges flat and corners square but every now and then, the context crept in to my mind...she's still alive...or is she?...you can't remember how big the coffins are...is Sally ok?...what's taking her so long...etc. I heard a bird make a gurgling sound. I heard this when we carried Chynna here over a year ago.
For days, we'd been giving her 4 doses of medicine each day, squirting them down her throat with a syringe. Sometimes she got extra water this way too. I work close by so I'd take breaks to check on her and give her water and medication. It seemed to help at first but things went downhill despite our efforts. Earlier yesterday, when I was trying to give her water she resisted, pulling her head away and pushing with her paws.
I could see expression in her face, exasperation and exhaustion. I said "no more no more". She understood and relaxed on the floor. I petted her emaciated body as gently as I could. No more insults of syringes, injections, thermometers,... She was 19, her decision demanded my respect. I knew then. I just knew.
Late last night, Sally kissed her, told her she loved her, and cried over her. She knew too.
I feel guilty that we slept but we were exhausted this had drained us day after day.
I woke up in the dark, my consciousness thick and slow but then remembered. I got out of bed quietly and checked her. At first I saw no movement in her chest but then thought I did for a moment, but I was wrong. My friend wasn't breathing anymore. I picked her up to put her in the box and held her against me as I began to walk away with her. I didn't realzie sally was awake until I heard her ask, "Is she alive?"
I carried her stiff body lightly against my chest and whispered. I said something, I think is was "I love you" but I'm not sure. I put her in the coffin and waited for dawn to pass. A bird sang at 6:02. Shortly after that, I heard the sighs of traffic rushing by in the distance. The world was awakening. Brittany would not wake up today.
We buried her before the sun came up, quickly and unceremoniously. Before we left for work, I opened the refrigerator to get our lunches and saw so many pouches and cans of catfood that Sally had tried to get Brittany to eat. As we walked out, I looked at ribbons hanging from a kitchen drawer-Brittany used to play with them. I reached for them and felt them slide through my fingers as I walked past.
