Today I had the honor of being the support for a friend as he said goodbye to his beloved cat of 10 years. She had been his companion during the loss of his mother ( his closest companion and friend) and his uncle (who was his mentor). He described his cat as “the perfect kitty for me”. He said she was curious but not troublesome. She was fun and funny but also laid back and relaxed. She loved to watch the world from her window perch and was content with being doted upon. They had simple routines which provided comfort to them both especially during times of stress. She was the perfect companion for him.
Five weeks ago he was concerned that her increased consumption of water might mean she had diabetes. With trepidation he made the vet appointment. He was not at all prepared for the words the veterinarian said to him. “Haley is a very sick kitty. She has a tumor in her kidney and her kidneys are failing. She needs to be put to sleep before she has seizures, becomes senile or goes into a coma.” My friend was so shocked he simply couldn’t think clearly. He drove home and literally fell apart. We chatted and he decided to have some energy work done for Haley and for himself. He decided to pray for a miracle. Haley was in good spirits and seemed herself for the next four weeks. He wondered if he had his miracle. But then, slowly, over the last few days, Haley began lose weight. Her appetite waned. She began to throw up what she did eat and she drank less water. He could tell her thinking was out of her norm too. She tried to get into the refrigerator. She tried to lift the lid on the toilet bowl. She often just stared at him. He asked me to do a read on her energy. It was with sadness I told him she was beginning her transition Home.
True to his nature, my friend struggled with what to do and when. Was it too soon? Should he wait? How would he know when? How could he do IT? And afterward… Then what? He would be so lonely! We talked… A lot! The appointment was scheduled and the grieving began. “How can a person make so many tears,” he asked? This morning, I picked him up and together we drove Miss Haley to the clinic. She was ready. She rested quietly in the car. Her usual response to car rides was a bit of vocal complaining. Today she was peaceful and quiet. As we arrived at the clinic he cried “I wish I had an appointment time when no one else would be here. I can’t stand for anyone to see me like this. “. As I softly touched his arm, I gently reminded him, “everyone here today is also a pet person. They will understand and feel your grief. These are just the right people to share your experience!”
With all paperwork formalities done, we sat in exam room. We chatted and giggled about her funny stories. He held her and he cried. She, however , just lay peacefully in his arms. She looked at him often and he asked me again if it was too soon. She nuzzled him and that was his answer that the timing was just right. When the vet confirmed this was the right time, he allowed the two companions to share a few moments. He thanked her for her years of companionship and love. He kissed he sweet face and stroked her throughout. She transitioned in the arms of her person, comforted and surrounded in all his loving energy. He, too, was surrounded in loving peace far greater than just my human arms. It was as if there was a team of angels there for her transition and his strength.
Those who have experienced the deep connection with our 4legged companions understand the grace and goodness that comes with sharing life together. Yet, we also know all too well the grief and the gratitude that comes when letting go. I am honored to have been there to support Haley’s human. I am, as always, humbled by the beauty of unconditional love.
