Purr-Against the Dying of the Light ? Joe's Primal Scream

In 1997 we added two members to our family. One was my oldest daughter, the other was a little tabby kitten, who we named Butterscotch, after my favorite candy. Tonight she lies, fighting for her life against bleak and overwhelming odds.

I was painting one of my mother?s rental houses when this little lost soul wandered up behind me and climbed up my shirt and onto my shoulder, nuzzling my face. Unlikely as that seems, that was exactly how it happened.

I don?t like cats in particular. Or at least that is what I claim. They?re arrogant and not really capable of being trained. No, that?s not true. They don?t WANT to be trained. Cats do as they wish. Their independent. Stubborn. I?m a dog guy, though I haven?t had one since the early part of 2000. I lost both mine the same year. It broke my heart. A beautiful Golden Retriever, Gallahad, and a Mastiff, Tumpy. At any rate, if I?m honest, I consider them as much family as I do anything, and though people make fun of me, I will still stop traffic to walk a turtle across the road.

At any rate, I am also not one to leave an animal stranded. Three of our cats are rescued. Somehow, even I seem to have grown attached. Damn it, how did that happen?

Everything dies. Everything. In time we all will, along with everything on this earth that lives and breaths. It doesn?t make it easier. Or simpler. And the sounds of my little girls crying weighs on my heart like an anchor, dragging it along with her into a sorrowful goodbye. I thought I?d be ready, I?m not. We never really are.

This cat was extremely aggravating. She kneaded constantly. She?d climb onto you to suck on your shirt and knead. In the middle of the night she?d walk across my face to get to my wife, who she slept on top of almost every night for those fifteen years. Many a night I swatted her off my head, I wish I hadn?t. Grudgingly I?d tell people she was a good cat. She never was any real trouble. She played like a kitten until tonight. Tonight she suffered a massive stroke, wallowing on our bedroom floors with screams that will likely haunt me tonight.

So I find myself consoling my daughters, trying to tell them that Butterscotch lived a great life, and she did. She wanted for nothing, and was treated like a child. As cat lives go, she was envied. Words are little consolation for a child who?s lost a pet though. And mine tonight ring as empty in my own ears as they do in theirs, likely. Maybe one day though they?ll see.

I knew it?d be soon. I just didn?t know it?d be tonight. So tonight I?m facing death, five minutes after laughing and cutting up in the kitchen, making a meal for my next blog post. I went through much of the last fifteen years not giving her much of a thought. She was the kid?s cat. It was her cat. I?ve fought to not get attached to an animal again. I miss those dogs more than some humans I?ve known.

Sometimes you don?t get to pick who or what works their way into your heart. Sometimes it gets chosen for you. But my fate was sealed the moment she climbed upon my shoulder and looked at me the first time. And I realize that even had I known then how much it?d hurt now, I?d have still scooped her up, put her in the truck and drove her home and welcomed her to the family.

She?s at home, dying peacefully, with the family that loves her. She likely won?t live another two days, the chances are slim, says the vet. Still though there is hope. And a little hope is always better than none. Even if she does it likely won?t be for long. But he said he could keep her there in a cage under observation for two days, or she could come home. She stands a better chance here.

But on the chance she doesn?t make it, well, I hope she goes peacefully, and without much pain. They say she isn?t suffering, but you couldn?t tell it listening to her cry as she tries to stand. She?s frightened. Life has pulled a trick on her that she doesn?t understand except in the most primitive of ways. But even animals can feel the icy fingers of death upon them. It?s amazing how even the simplest of creatures will fight with everything within them to cling to one more moment. The other cats have crowded around her licking her and tending to her in their own ways, even the new addition, Patton, who is usually boisterous and mischievous has toned down his behavior in deference.

Some might say we?d be better putting her down, and if she doesn?t improve by Thursday then we?ll likely have to. She won?t be able to eat or care for herself.

But for tonight she deserves to be at home, taking her last breaths, if that be the case, in the presence of those that knew and loved her, and those that will miss her.

And despite all my efforts, those that will miss her include me.

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Source: http://joesprimalscream.com/2012/02/07/purr-against-the-dying-of-the-light/

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