I'm writing this for myself, but I sincerely hope others find comfort from it.
So, here goes. Let's start by saying even by the standards of this forum I'm a bit "weird" about cats. I often prefer cat company to human company. I certainly respect my cats a lot more than I respect most of the humans I meet. The people I tend to get on with are animal lovers. The woman I married is a vet. And like all of youI suffer terrible, terrible grief. I've just lost my precious cat, and at the moment am struggling with believing I will ever love another cat the same way again. I feel like if I had another cat I would in some way be cheating it out of the love that someone else could give it. I find it hard to believe I could love anything as deeply I loved Eva.
But of course in time I will. Not the same. Different. New. However, I will still see a ball of fluff and I will flal to my knees, pick it up, and start making silly noises before losing my heart to it. that's just the way I am. I am a cat lover. I know you understand. You're all the same. Although I do not post here often I do frequently visit. TCS is a family who "get it", and sometimes it's reassuring to be around people who understand the bond that can form between feline and human.
So, why am I writing this post. Well, it's for those people who have no spirituality, no religion. No belief in the afterlife. For those people, and I am one, talk of the rainbow bridge can be like a dagger in the heart. We believe there is no bridge. We believe we will never see our cat again. That's hard. there's no comfort there. No hope. Its a very empty place to be. We believe our cat is gone forever. It's just gone. We believe there will be no tearful reunion. No meeting of soulmates. Frankly, I am envious of people who have this belief.
You see, even if the bridge does exist, I wouldn't want to wait all my life to be there. Besides, I've had a few cats that I've loved dearly and lost. I know at least a couple of them that would object in passionate terms about the presence of the others, so there would clearly be politics. In addition, my Eva was a Burmese. She wouldn't be waiting peacefully at the bridge for me. Someone else's precious rabbit would be waiting for their owner when Eva landed on it from behind. Imagine someone's face as they finally saw their beloved pet after a lifetime of speration only to see it explode in a a detonation of Burmese hunting excitement. And please don't say they will all be friends. Eva loved every cat. Caitlin, the last cat I really bonded with, hated everything. Everything. She loved me, and she tolerated my wife, but anything beyond that was beyond scorn, beyond feline disdainment, and into the world of abject and clear hatred. It just made me love her more, but the thought of Caitlin at the rainbow bridge playing with other cats just fills me with laughter. It wouldn't be caitlin. If Caitin was at the rainbow bridge it would be sitting at the bottom of a tree looking up and hissing at half a million other cats trapped frightened in the tree. Caitlin wouldn't curl up at the bottom of a tree and wait for the others to come down, she'd go looking for an axe. It would be carnage. Then there was Anya. Anya was possessed by the devil. I'm convinced of it. In front of me, she was loving and caring and affectionate. I used to come home to find my wife crying because she had tried to stroke Anya and had had her arms torn to shreds by this dual personalitied-monster. My friends thought she was evi incarnate. She once brought home a mouse for me to see, and then flung it at my wife's face. In her life she only ever took to another cat. Caitlin. Who hated her, obviously. Meanwhile Eva would be trying to lick them both and tell them that she loved them. If I picture all my cats at the rainbow bridge it starts to look less like a powerful emotional scene, and more like slapstick comedy.
So no, I don't believe in it. I don't believe in kitty heaven, or human heaven for that matter. I believe my Caitlin has gone, my Anya has gone, and my Eva has gone. I will never see them again. So why am I posting this. It sounds quite harsh so far, eh. I imagine the moderators must be shaking their heads and thinking "we really must do something about these English people coming on the board".
Stay with me.
you see, I lied when I said I don't have any spirituality. I do have a little. My Eva has gone. I buried her body in the ground. Over the past two weeks I have come to realise I miss her physical presence. The fact that I love her hasn't changed. Only the fact that I cannot kiss her to show her. But perhaps I can tell her. You see, when you lose a cat, their physical life comes to an end. All that is left is the memories that you posess and the love that you shared. Whoa. think about that. All that is left if your love for your animal. Well I don't know about you guys, but my love for my cat was a bloody powerful thing. I would have moved mountains to keep my cat safe if I could. I treasured her. and she loved me. She showed me constantly. None of that changes. Just the physical presence.
And here's the kicker. I believe that love to be long living. I believe I will love Eva as long as I live, and I will remember her as long as I live. And as long as I love her and remember her, then she isn't really gone. Sure, she isn't physically around for me to pick up and kiss, but then she wasn't around for a lot of the time anyway. My love for her is a strong now as it was when she was alive. And I believed she loved me back. I felt it when she was alive, and I treasure that feeling now.
In fact, I'm going to do more than treasure it. Love is precious. I'm going to take Eva into my heart. I'm going to keep my memories of her there. There she can exist in safety. There it will always be warm, and nothing can hurt her. There I will always know where she is. There I will always be able to feel her against me. I can picture her curled up. Safe. she will live as long as I live. she will be loved as long as I remember her. Which will be forever. When I miss her physical presence I will whisper to her. I will not tell her I miss her. Because she is with me. I will not tell her I love her, because she knows that. I will simply whisper to remind her that I am there watching over her, and that she is precious to me. And maybe, just maybe, when I am at my lowest, I will hear her whisper back. I will feel her stir against my heart and cuddle closer.
So, if you have lost your beloved cat, and you have no belief in the afternoon, there is still no reason to despair. your cat may be physically gone, but the love you hold for them is just as strong. Build a place in your heart to keep that love safe. No-one else needs to know the secret voice you whisper to when you are sad. In many ways, you and your cat will simply have become closer. You have become one.
So, here goes. Let's start by saying even by the standards of this forum I'm a bit "weird" about cats. I often prefer cat company to human company. I certainly respect my cats a lot more than I respect most of the humans I meet. The people I tend to get on with are animal lovers. The woman I married is a vet. And like all of youI suffer terrible, terrible grief. I've just lost my precious cat, and at the moment am struggling with believing I will ever love another cat the same way again. I feel like if I had another cat I would in some way be cheating it out of the love that someone else could give it. I find it hard to believe I could love anything as deeply I loved Eva.
But of course in time I will. Not the same. Different. New. However, I will still see a ball of fluff and I will flal to my knees, pick it up, and start making silly noises before losing my heart to it. that's just the way I am. I am a cat lover. I know you understand. You're all the same. Although I do not post here often I do frequently visit. TCS is a family who "get it", and sometimes it's reassuring to be around people who understand the bond that can form between feline and human.
So, why am I writing this post. Well, it's for those people who have no spirituality, no religion. No belief in the afterlife. For those people, and I am one, talk of the rainbow bridge can be like a dagger in the heart. We believe there is no bridge. We believe we will never see our cat again. That's hard. there's no comfort there. No hope. Its a very empty place to be. We believe our cat is gone forever. It's just gone. We believe there will be no tearful reunion. No meeting of soulmates. Frankly, I am envious of people who have this belief.
You see, even if the bridge does exist, I wouldn't want to wait all my life to be there. Besides, I've had a few cats that I've loved dearly and lost. I know at least a couple of them that would object in passionate terms about the presence of the others, so there would clearly be politics. In addition, my Eva was a Burmese. She wouldn't be waiting peacefully at the bridge for me. Someone else's precious rabbit would be waiting for their owner when Eva landed on it from behind. Imagine someone's face as they finally saw their beloved pet after a lifetime of speration only to see it explode in a a detonation of Burmese hunting excitement. And please don't say they will all be friends. Eva loved every cat. Caitlin, the last cat I really bonded with, hated everything. Everything. She loved me, and she tolerated my wife, but anything beyond that was beyond scorn, beyond feline disdainment, and into the world of abject and clear hatred. It just made me love her more, but the thought of Caitlin at the rainbow bridge playing with other cats just fills me with laughter. It wouldn't be caitlin. If Caitin was at the rainbow bridge it would be sitting at the bottom of a tree looking up and hissing at half a million other cats trapped frightened in the tree. Caitlin wouldn't curl up at the bottom of a tree and wait for the others to come down, she'd go looking for an axe. It would be carnage. Then there was Anya. Anya was possessed by the devil. I'm convinced of it. In front of me, she was loving and caring and affectionate. I used to come home to find my wife crying because she had tried to stroke Anya and had had her arms torn to shreds by this dual personalitied-monster. My friends thought she was evi incarnate. She once brought home a mouse for me to see, and then flung it at my wife's face. In her life she only ever took to another cat. Caitlin. Who hated her, obviously. Meanwhile Eva would be trying to lick them both and tell them that she loved them. If I picture all my cats at the rainbow bridge it starts to look less like a powerful emotional scene, and more like slapstick comedy.
So no, I don't believe in it. I don't believe in kitty heaven, or human heaven for that matter. I believe my Caitlin has gone, my Anya has gone, and my Eva has gone. I will never see them again. So why am I posting this. It sounds quite harsh so far, eh. I imagine the moderators must be shaking their heads and thinking "we really must do something about these English people coming on the board".
Stay with me.
you see, I lied when I said I don't have any spirituality. I do have a little. My Eva has gone. I buried her body in the ground. Over the past two weeks I have come to realise I miss her physical presence. The fact that I love her hasn't changed. Only the fact that I cannot kiss her to show her. But perhaps I can tell her. You see, when you lose a cat, their physical life comes to an end. All that is left is the memories that you posess and the love that you shared. Whoa. think about that. All that is left if your love for your animal. Well I don't know about you guys, but my love for my cat was a bloody powerful thing. I would have moved mountains to keep my cat safe if I could. I treasured her. and she loved me. She showed me constantly. None of that changes. Just the physical presence.
And here's the kicker. I believe that love to be long living. I believe I will love Eva as long as I live, and I will remember her as long as I live. And as long as I love her and remember her, then she isn't really gone. Sure, she isn't physically around for me to pick up and kiss, but then she wasn't around for a lot of the time anyway. My love for her is a strong now as it was when she was alive. And I believed she loved me back. I felt it when she was alive, and I treasure that feeling now.
In fact, I'm going to do more than treasure it. Love is precious. I'm going to take Eva into my heart. I'm going to keep my memories of her there. There she can exist in safety. There it will always be warm, and nothing can hurt her. There I will always know where she is. There I will always be able to feel her against me. I can picture her curled up. Safe. she will live as long as I live. she will be loved as long as I remember her. Which will be forever. When I miss her physical presence I will whisper to her. I will not tell her I miss her. Because she is with me. I will not tell her I love her, because she knows that. I will simply whisper to remind her that I am there watching over her, and that she is precious to me. And maybe, just maybe, when I am at my lowest, I will hear her whisper back. I will feel her stir against my heart and cuddle closer.
So, if you have lost your beloved cat, and you have no belief in the afternoon, there is still no reason to despair. your cat may be physically gone, but the love you hold for them is just as strong. Build a place in your heart to keep that love safe. No-one else needs to know the secret voice you whisper to when you are sad. In many ways, you and your cat will simply have become closer. You have become one.
