An elderly cat died in our bathtub this morning. He belongs to our neighbors who are out of town and, clearly, not very aware of how sick their cat was.
Stef brought him home from an alley-way last night where he was dying, wasting away, and very, very old. We had him resting on blankets and towels in the family room, but I insisted we put him in the tub last night so I could get up and check on him or give him water if he cried out, which he did, a couple of times.
I talked to him about the Rainbow Bridge and told him that this house was a safe place from which to make that launch. I told him to look for Riley (who would show him the ropes) but to watch out for Tinker (who could get kind of snarky) and how much fun it will be to feel his body young and strong again and out of pain.
He made hi.s transition about an hour ago at 8:30am. I had gone in there about a half hour before to give him a little sip of water, stroke his head and talk to him. He has always been an outdoor kitty, so this might have been the most affection he’s ever gotten in his life, and I’m feeling really sad and weepy, reactivated in remembering all the animals I’ve carried in my heart and had to say good-bye to. I’m glad we were the ones to do it, though, the ones to be kind to him right at the end of this life, the ones to remind him that this is what we are here for – to love each other, to care for each other gently, and, when the time comes, to wish each other well as we strike out for the next great adventure. JS