Wednesday, September 21, 2011

If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever.

I lost my best little kitty friend suddenly and unexpectedly two weeks ago to a genetic heart defect I never knew she had. She was only four years old and as far as I knew, as far as her vet could tell, she was perfectly healthy. I loved her like a child. I would have done anything at all in the world for her. As a childless woman in my thirties living alone far from my family, my kitty was everything to me. I have been completely devastated by this. I miss her terribly.

Some things that happen in this life make you so sad that you don't ever want to get out of bed. You don't ever want to even acknowledge what happened because then you would have to acknowledge the truth. When you think of it, you can't stop crying. But, somehow, weeks later, you know you have to move on eventually. Life goes on, even when it's terribly unfair.

I can't even talk about how traumatic it was to bury her. But, my mother was with me and we planted a garden of pansies and petunias above her. I placed an engraved stone with her name, dates, and a paw print by the flowers. I put a bird feeder in the tree above the garden because Nashira loved to watch birds.

The sad truth is that she had a heart condition that could have taken her at any time and there probably isn't much at all I could have done for her even if I had known about it, but it's hard not let the wheels of my brain spin and spin thinking "if only I had...". I have spent time talking to more than one veterinarian, reading article after article after article about the disease, and even talking to others like me, who suddenly lost a cat to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy.

Animals are such amazing companions. They love us unconditionally in a way we never experience from anyone else in our lives. They don't care if we are fat or thin, tall or short, white or brown, if we're having a bad hair day or if we screwed up at work. My little Nashira curled up in my arms every night in bed and I patted her little head before I went to sleep. Her company made me so happy. She was so affectionate and she loved to be brushed more than any other cat I have ever known. She made me laugh. She was the epitome of joy. I kissed her and hugged her about ten times a day and for that I am so grateful. I could not save her, but I did love her with all of my heart and she will always be part of me.

One regret, dear world,
That I am determined not to have
When I am lying on my deathbed
Is that
I did not kiss you enough.