West Seventh Freelance

The depth of grief cannot be predicted. Since the death of our cat Bagheera on February 19th, I have been consumed by it; not 24/7, but in shocking great batches of sobbing and snot. This is a very solitary experience for me. Several people that read my previous post reached out; one of whom is a great friend and has offered additional thoughts by email.

My partner does not share the extent of this grief. I guess I was the “cat Mom” and it was my love and efforts that primarily supported our cats in their day to day lives. And so, I am pretty much grieving alone (yes, self pity is an issue…). I am trying to make sense of this; a world in which people do not understand the nature of this kind of grief. A companion animal is an unconditionally loving creature who relies upon us for everything. We tend to give them everything of ourselves. And the grief is real and feels quite unique.

So, this begs the question: what would Bagheera expect of me now?

I’m just home from a two mile walk. It is snowing here in St. Paul, MN. I am pleased to report that I only slipped once on a patch of ice. I talked to Bagheera while I walked. He doesn’t want me to be so sad and prefers that I recall all the amazing things we shared for almost 15 years. Here is his preliminary advice, in a nutshell:

Keep moving every day.

Greet all the animals I meet with joy.

Find ways to give animals, cats in particular, care as they wait for their forever homes. Volunteer time and love.

Remember him in my prayers and give thanks for the people in my life who love and care about cats.

Bye for now,

Christine