Sunday, September 30, 2012

Tragedy of Feline Porportions

Yesterday 4am my alarm going off as it always does but I have been responding to it rarely.  I frankestein-monster myself downstairs to catch it before everyone is awake.  It was playing Awake My Soul by Mumford & Sons.
I heard a ruckus outside, cat yowls and crashing.  Siddius Kittius didn't come in when I called him, after I stuck my head outside & called once hearing the noises again, I figure I had better go out and see what's up.  I paused to put on boots, hoodie, grab flashlight.

Outside in the moonless early morning, I "skskskss" again for the cat, sense a motion off to the left, shine the light.  A pair of glowing marbles look back at me and the shadow begins to lope away as I approach the scene.

Poor Siddius, curled slightly, breathing shallow, not moving.  I picked him up and brought him inside, went to wake The Man.

On our tile his breaths continued to be shallow for a bit, he eventually calmed and appeared to sleep.  He knew he was safe.

The Man & I debated at length about what to do, the prohibitive cost of repairing a cat vs. the less prohibitive prospect of euthanize of course Miss Monkey had to be involved.  Siddius never moved from the place I laid him, we wrapped him and re-wrapped him.  He was in pain, let out a groaning sigh now and then.

We woke Bigger Little Girl and told her what happened.  The Man and she prepped to go to a local 24 hour vet clinic I had to stay behind as Toddleator E has been experiencing a rather daunting fever.

Off they went to say final good-byes to Darth Siddius, we were all sobbing off an on.

And the grieving began.  I miss that little cat's presence over and over and over.  He was an incredibly sweet cat.  Attacking feet, chewing on toes, knocking things off the counter and sill chasing flies, chasing dogs out on the path, he'd come running running running when I sat out to call him in after a ramble.  Porter misses him, they played Bite-Face-Huggie-Paw the last time as a friend & I looked on chatting about pros/cons of letting cats out.

Repetitively all day with Miss Monkey talking about feelings, "I feel so sad...", that it's normal & natural to feel sad because we loved him so very much.  Letting her emote in her own way, completely.  I think the habit is too much to stop  it, to attempt to fix it, to medicate with with distraction.  These feelings are necessary to allow the moments to pass in a healthy way, eventually the hurt will subside if we feel all the way into it.

More later on this, and last pic or vid when I find it.  Right now I've a gymnast to rangle.

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