Tonight I walked through the feeding routine, my body working on automatic. Sky went into his carrier as did Lady. I opened the smaller feed container to withdraw the scoop and scooped the food out of the larger container for “the boys” in their cage. From the frig I withdrew the many cans of food to distribute to the other cats and placed Rainbow’s bowl atop the frig. Setting the cans upon the counter I noticed that I’ve still got “her” can.
Mewdy Blue hopped up into his carrier to await his dollop of food while Glitter accepted her bowl of dry food on the shelf beside him. I pulled the lid from the smaller container out to block Glitter’s access to “her” bowl then closed my eyes as I remembered. Next I plopped a small can of special food in Lady’s bowl and closed her carrier door. Sky was next with just a spoonful of his special canned food and a scoop of his dry food.
Finally I fed the remaining cats their dry food on the floor, the top of the shelves, the ledge and the spot in the living room. I looked at “her” can and stopped for a moment. I wouldn’t need that. Then set out the many different pills. There was the metronidazole, but only one this time, the prednisolone, only two, and one atenolol.
I looked at the lid still blocking Glitter’s way and recognized that it didn’t need to be there. On this night so much has changed; my routine, my life. Bluebird is gone and everything is wrong.
That’s the feeling when you lose a loved one, especially one who was such a large part of your life. She has been a huge part of my life for 14 years insinuating herself on my heart and leaving pawprints on my soul. Her mother was a feral cat and she started out as a mama’s girl hiding behind her mother’s fur whenever I entered their room. Once separated from her mom, Bluebird came out of her shell and demanded to be the center of attention. The only girl in a litter of five she became a Prima Donna.
Grief includes so many feelings, many more than the “5 stages” you’ll find in books, especially if the one you grieve is a beloved pet. First you will have spent some time caring intensively for a sick pet, then you may be forced to make the ultimate decision. Choosing to end the life of your precious pet is difficult, yes, but it is also a gift you give to one who trusts you. You are choosing to end the suffering, the pain and the stress the illness or injury is causing your pet.
You can expect to go through all the stages of grief afterward and find yourself expecting to find your pet at every turn. You may also begin to suffer in silence because you fear that others around you would never understand. Try to find someone you know would understand, a friend, a counselor or a support group, to help you through this process.
Tonight I’m still thinking of Bluebird nearly every minute. She’s everywhere in this house in my memories and in the atmosphere. She’s everywhere in my life where ever I may go. I have to believe that she hasn’t left, that she’s with me every minute as I go on in this world until we are reunited once again.
Bluebird has flown over the rainbow, a place where I can’t follow just yet, her voice filling the sky – what news do you sing now, my pretty Bluebird? She is with her mom