*Discussion of grief and loss*
Hello Friends.
If you follow my posts on social media, you may already know, but Tigger crossed the rainbow bridge on summer solstice.
I miss him terribly. He was a soul kitty, but even though I felt that deeply, I don’t think I realized how much I depended on him. I was with him 24/7 for most of his life–unless I was traveling or out and about in town, we were together. He listened to me, cuddled, cheered me up, always knew when I was sad or hurting or happy. As many companion animals do, he always seemed to know what I needed–whether it was a loud purr and snuggle or a silly antic to make me smile. He was rarely far from my side even at home (and more often than not, he was laying on me, lol).
The last couple of years have been really difficult for my family (as they have for so many people), and Tigger was always right there to remind me of all that is good and love and light in the world.
He had been slowing down, getting a little creaky (me too!) but he was healthy up until…he wasn’t. It happened so quickly. I knew it was about to happen–I told my family that Tigger had told me it was time for him to leave–I was pretty upset about it, but I think the fact I knew helped me prepare a tiny bit.
It was only about a week from the time he started showing he felt bad until he crossed the bridge. He spent a few days in the hospital while they tried to stabilize him and figure out what was wrong, but he spent the last four days at home. The internal med vet suspected a potentially treatable illness, but I knew what it was (a type of lymphoma)–and knew that it wouldn’t be treatable. We were waiting on some lengthy lab work when he tanked and I had to call the vet to come to the house and help him cross the bridge.
It was solstice, and I had been up with him all night. Around 7am, I took him out on the porch into the warm June sunshine. I was holding him like a baby (he had quickly lost weight but was still a heavy and big kitty!), and he leaned back in my arms, closed his eyes, and smiled. I know the sun felt so good on his face and I hope my presence comforted him. I will never forget that sweet smile in the sunshine–it was the same he’d had since he was a baby.
I held him all day–he had pain meds and fluids, though he was done with food. I don’t think he was suffering at that point–he was still eating well within 24 hours of his death. I had bought so many types of wet food for him to binge on.
The vet that came to the house was as patient and kind as any vet I’ve ever met (she was not our normal vet). Roo stayed with Tigger (laying against him) as the vet took care of Tigger. After Tigger passed, the vet stayed for over an hour as we let each of the cats say their goodbyes. Andi and I were home alone, as hubby was out of town helping Alex move. They did join via video conference. When the vet brought in the basket/blanket to take Tigger away for water cremation, Roo had to check it out to make sure he approved. He made biscuits in the blanket and got it all soft and arranged for his brother. It was seriously so sweet.
I’m still so sick over Tigger being gone–even though I knew the day would come. I mean, we all go through this with our companions. It doesn’t make it easier, though. I know you all know that all to well yourselves. It’s the price we have to pay when we love and care for a companion.
Since Tigger was such a part of my author stuff (because he was such a part of my life!), I need to think about what adaptations I will make, if any. But I really don’t know what might change. Please have patience with me–I’ve always been the big cry baby, and little makes me cry more than a loss like this.
Yes, I have my other babies! I love them all so much! They are all doing well. Roo has had the hardest time–for a month or more, he would not leave me and he always had to be touching me. He couldn’t sleep without being next to me. He is still really clingy, but we are supporting each other, and I trust in the knowledge that animals do grieve, but they also usually do move on and continue showing us how to live in the moment.
Thanks for reading. I’m not even going to read through this, so I apologize in advance for errors and redundancies. I have struggled to tell this story and have been crying nonstop.
I’m sure I am forgetting something important I wanted to say, but this is already way long. Sorry!
I hope to get back into some kind of new groove soon, and I have some great news to share next month.
Meanwhile, the next time you’re out in the warm sun, maybe close your eyes, tilt your face to the warmth, and smile. Carpe Diem.
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