I so sincerely thank you for your kindness, empathy & understanding.
Tonight I am again raining on my keyboard. I continue to see him on his shelf, with his head hanging down. Unforgivably he was in pain. I cannot clean the shelf. I cannot place anything on it.
The 16 days he survived, whilst I fought to keep him alive is so raw. He needed to be warm, some days he would eat a little egg & cheese, others when he rallied it would be chicken, salmon or sardines. At times he would turn up for meals so much as usual.
Hope is an incredible experience as is hopelessness. I watched my beautiful boy die fluctuating between both.
He was born in a shed at my home unbeknowst to me. His mother was feral & had lived hard. She arrived 16 years ago heavily pregnant. She would not tolerate any interaction, she was so young, I gave her food every morning & evening. Eventually, she had clearly birthed her babies, she was named Hissy.
Ongoing food for Hissy, she was so hungy.
And then, as I hung out the washing, Hissy paraded her 4 children before me. The image is mine forever, a mother & children all in line.
My beautiful cat was the last in the line: ginger & white with the blue eyes of a 4 week old. I commenced the introduction to people. A little one, sharp claws & teeth, held & supported. Loved as we moved forward, snuggled to sleep in my clothes. I will always know how important he was.
He was named poorly as he was not going to stay, however he did, I need to be heartenend by this.
My cat was extraordinary throughout his time with me. Described as special: so often observed to be seeing beyond our human capacity, a purr that sounded like a chirrup, a sound I will never hear again.
He was buried on the same day, wrapped in a beautiful shroud, a flowering plant & statue to mark his grave.
I so struggle with this, I cannot cope with his grave, and yet I water his plant knowing what lies beneath.
I know I tried
I am just so sad - how hard it is to know that I could have given him better.