Becky~ August 19, 1991 to April 26, 2010
She was so loved, this gentle pet of mine. And how she loved us back.
I've been alone in my house before, of course. Those days when my husband took the kids out for the day, being able to vacuum without a baby in one arm and a toddler, riding the vacuum cleaner like it was a bronco, was solitary pleasure. Later there were quiet days as the kids were at camp and my husband at work. And then came the bittersweet aloneness when kids left home for college and a life apart. Still, I'd always liked being alone, knowing it was short lived.
This morning, after my husband pulled out of the driveway with a day full of plans, I stood in the living room feeling alone in a way I never had before. An unfamiliar emptiness and silence surrounded me.
Yesterday we put our 18-year-old cat, Becky, to sleep. The decision to do so was surprisingly easy. The vet had told us Becky would let us know when it was time, and somehow she did. But the decision wasn't without its pain, and we mourn her loss deeply. If you have not loved a pet with all your heart and soul, perhaps it's hard to understand how tight and loyal is the bond between human and animal—how unconditional the love.
For 18 years, Becky has been here, filling the house with her quiet presence. Who would think that a tiny eight pound cat sleeping on the couch could have sweetened what I thought was silence with her soft and constant song of love? I now experience real silence--a hollow void. I miss the silent noise that has been with me for years… even when I thought I was alone.
I miss you Becky… I love you still and always, my sweet girl.
More about Becky: "Enjoy Her While She's Here."
~~~~~
I love cats because I love my home and after a while they become its visible soul. ~Jean Cocteau
Comments
I am so deeply sorry for your loss, Ruth. Sending you a big virtual hug... :-(
I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. It's curious how our most silent friends can have the voices that we miss the most.
I don't know if we domesticated sabre-tooth tigers and great wolves and ended up with pussycats and pups tens of thousands of years ago. I'd like to think, perhaps on the eighth day, the gods said: "Good grief! These people we've created will never manage with just other people around the house. Let there be pets!"
We must be most grateful for lovely, soft, sweet pets like Becky.
Bless.
Ross
What I'm trying to say is that I feel you. I feel this loss with you as only a fellow animal mommy can. I know that emptiness. I know the intense loneliness. I wish you the right cat to fill your arms when you're ready again. For now, close your eyes and feel Becky near you, because she is. You might want to read "One" by Richard Bach (of Jonathan Livingston Seagull fame). It may be comforting in an odd way to you. You'll see what I mean when you read it.
Peace - D
I grieve with you...for losing your sweet girl.
Loving you today Ruth!
Wanda
Maybe my cat read one of your e-mails, about it being the first night you'd gone to bed without a cat on the bed, because he NEVER sleeps on my bed, but last night he did, cuddled up against my feet, starting to purr whenever I woke up.
Interesting -
I wish you a life full of cats who arrive at the right time and place.
Love
Alice
We went without pets for a few years, but that won't happen again.
I'm so sorry about your Becky.
Bob
PPC Advertising India
Five years ago we made the same sad decision for our sweet Muffin. For months afterwards, we saw her on the stairs, or in the hall, out of the corner of our eyes. I thought she would be my last cat, since my second husband Art was allergic to them, and he was more comfortable without a cat.
Then, a year ago, we bought Larisa. She's a hypoallergenic Siberian Forest cat. Art is not allergic to her. She's a shy girl with a very loud purr, and just this spring she decided she was an indoor/outdoor, indoor/outdoor, indoor/outdoor cat.
We love Larisa. But once a week or so, one of us calls her Muffin.
So sorry for your April loss.