She’s gone, but I feel like I’m dying. in 2024

I know I haven’t written in here in so long. I keep meaning to, but it so hard just to make myself do it, especially, when my life is so unchanging. However, now I’m in a crisis of sorts, and I don’t know what to do. I have nowhere else where I can express my grief.

I think one of my cats, Calico, wandered off to die. She had not been eating much of her food lately. I’d open a fresh can of wet food every morning when I got up and every evening when I returned from work. Their bowls (I have/had two cats) would be fairly empty in the evening because I often get back kind of late, but they’d often have a good portion remaining in the mornings.

Saturday morning, when I got up, she still had a sizable portion of wet food left from the night prior. It looked pretty fresh, so I decided not to open a new can if she was only going to eat a couple of bites, like she apparently did the previous evening. Calico hung around inside for just a little bit, then went through her pet door to the backyard, and I’ve not seen her since.
I know animals and people will often times lose their appetites and thirst when they get close to dying. I also know that cats in particular will sometimes go off to be by themselves when they pass.

I think she’s gone, and my grief feels like geyser that won’t exhaust itself. I keep thinking about everything I possibly did wrong. Calico had a thyroid condition that required half a pill to be crushed into her food every day. Her medicine had run out, and I was waiting to get it refilled by her vet. I hadn’t given her any medicine in almost a week. In the absence of her medicine, did her condition rapidly worsen to the point of taking her life?

Was she aware that this was coming? She had been uncannily affectionate, wanting to sit in my lap frequently, which she usually only does in the winter. I think about how she would lay on my desk while I stupidly played games on my computer. She’d get up and come coax some head or back scratches out of me, or I’d comb her intermittently. Was she trying to say “goodbye?” Was she trying to show me as much love as she could because she knew she wouldn’t be around much longer?

I drove around the neighborhood a few times on Sunday and Monday, and I didn’t see any sign of her. I walked through the woods behind my house, where she would have gone after leaving the back yard. Again, I didn’t see any sign of her. I asked my neighbors, and they hadn’t seen her. I made some flyers with her picture and my contact information and distributed them to some houses today. Maybe something will turn up.

Now, she’s not here. She doesn’t run up to greet me when I enter through the kitchen door. Her litter box hasn’t been used. Her water isn’t dirty from when she would paw it to make it ripple before drinking. I see the spots on the walls or on my laptop where she would rub her chin. I see the waste bin in my office with her fur I’d discard from her comb after grooming her. I see her pet steps that she’d use to climb up on the couch to cuddle me, or up on to my desk to be combed, or up on her cat tree when she wanted to be up high, or up to her window pet door when she wanted to go outside. I see the large, crushed Amazon box I was going to recycle, but didn’t because she decided to use it as a sleeping cave. Everything reminds me that she’s gone, and I just can’t stop sobbing. I’m afraid her remains are being desecrated in the sun without a proper burial. I’m afraid if I had immediately gotten her medicine refilled like a good pet owner, she’d still be here. At the very least, maybe she would have stayed around, so she could have spent her last moments with me. I’m afraid she left because she thought I’d be gone all day like I am most days, so she decided to go die alone.

I go outside and call her name to no avail. I can’t stop myself from doing so, but when I break out into tears almost immediately afterwards, I can’t help but stop. My other cat, Patches, seems to know somethings amiss. She hangs out in the backyard looking for Calico. They’d often lay out in adjacent, sunny patches of grass.

I just don’t know how to stem this pain. I had the good fortune to also get sick this weekend, so at work, I’ve been able to pass off my stuffy nose, watery eyes, and hoarse voice as illness related. I used my sickness as an excuse to request early leave yesterday. I’ll probably do the same today after my morning class. It takes every fiber of my being to keep it together. I had no idea Saturday morning was going to be the last time I ever saw her. She’s gone, and I just don’t know how to go on.

Last updated August 28, 2024