Friday, November 30, 2019

Our cat, Leo, died earlier this week. Our athletic and lightfooted kitty started showing her age gradually, all of the sudden with a round-the-clock sleep schedule then, a stiff walk, and inability to join our laps without help. Week she had to be helped to her food bowl The final, then her cat box, and the veterinarian arrived and put her to rest then. I can’t stand euphemisms, but I like the word “euthanize” even less.
Andrew dug a deep opening in the garden, and we put her there. It had been one of the saddest days for my me and my husband. We received Leo from a pal whenever we were living collectively in 1997 first. A year old Leo was just, mostly a kitten. She loved to be snuggled, and she was so hard to place down I would wrap her in a large scarf that Then i linked with my upper body, and carry her around like a baby.
That’s weird, I understand. Leo would lay down there until she fell asleep, and then I would suspend her on the hinged door knob and she’d continue to rest there. She would come when called, very un-catlike for the reason that real way. When my husband and I would walk down to our local business district for supper or errands, she would stalk us for four blocks until we got to a busy intersection, and she would wait around until we strolled back again there.
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Sometimes that might be an hour or more. Leo also adopted me to the studio almost every day before past year or two when she lost desire for being outside all the time. I never concerned about her knocking stuff over, she was so delicate to her surroundings. She would post through to shelves, or next to glaze buckets, or on to the floor next to her food dish, willing me with her penetrating stare to perform home and get her more food. I always do because Leo was very hard to state “no” to. There was one time where she made a miscalculation and and didn’t quite make it up to another shelf she was jumping for.
She swung, monkey-like, claws dug into the shelf she was looking to get up to, and knocked over a huge vase I put worked on for 4 hours just, shattering it. I grabbed her, and wanted to shake her, but how can you really punish a kitty? I put her outside and slammed the door.
She gave me about quarter-hour to recuperate and then started meowing to let her back. Of course, I did. I’ve been dealing with mind-boggling sadness all week. There is something poignant and painful about shedding a pet particularly. You are supposed to look out for them, to take care of them, but there is a communication gap.