Orson, Giant Kitty, died at 9:30 tonight. He had kidney failure.
Here’s how stupid I am: We got home from the vet and I was crying, so what did I do? Though I was crying over his death, I went to the living room and called for him. How in the fuck is he supposed to comfort me now?
I did the same thing for quite a while. Boris and Tasha were raised together from puppies, and when I lost Boris last year, it took a while to break the habit of calling them together. I hope your good memories will bring you solace from your pain.
The thing about the Dope is that I can rage here. I’ll go to work tomorrow and probably not mention it, or just in passing “Oh yeah, Orson died. Gosh, it’s sad.” And then part of me hates myself for not being willing to cry in public over my cat.
I have an old cat, and I know he’s going to die someday soon, and I’m sure I’ll post about it here when it happens. I’ll be devastated. For now I’ll give him a hug (even though he won’t like it).
Anybody who thinks it’s foolish to grieve over a cat has never loved an animal. It doesn’t really matter that they’re not human. We fall in love with them anyway, and though we may tell ourselves they’re only pets, our heart will accept them as family anyway.
Tragi-comic, isn’t it? It takes time for reality to fill in the cat-shaped hole in your life, and you find yourself doing all manner of odd things until the brain catches up. But everything sorts itself out in due course.
Sorry Orson had to go and live on the big farm in the sky.
I am so sorry for your loss. It is hard to lose a friend. I understand how you feel about not talking about it at work. I am the same way. When I lost my cat Jasper no one at work knew, heck I didn’t even tell my mom for a week or two. I just wanted to keep her all to myself.