Kevin died on August 2. Literally on the eve of my departure. She was killed and eaten by something a little ways from our house. I didn’t know she wandered that far. All that was left was fur; enough to recognize her.
Certainly my mourning is interrupted; the only night I’ve spent at home since, I dreamed the whole night she was tucked in by my side as usual, and it will take more time at home, thinking I see her following me, or sitting in the field, to adjust to the idea that she isn’t here anymore.
My friend says that guilt is a common factor in grief- if there was anything I could have done differently, if I had come home ten minutes earlier, what if she was out wandering because she was hungry. I really wanted her to live out her whole potential life, to go in her sleep curled in a peaceful knot on my bed. I’m glad two of my friends have lost animals that were the closest of friends; they understand.
I’ve never lost any”one” so close to me. I’ve had my little cat by my side for nine years, falling to sleep together for 100s of nights, and I’ve never spent so much time with any”one” or anything. She taught me so much about love. It took me a long time to get used to her (I’m not a natural cat person, but I became one) and learn to accept her, but I ended up loving her so much. And of course, she was just such a cool cat, even though she was getting pretty frail.
It’s a giant loss. I have all the symptoms of grief- can’t believe she’s really gone, guilt and regret, avoiding thinking about it to not let in the loss, crying suddenly at awkward times, like when I see a cat graphic on a T-shirt and remember that I don’t have a cat any more. I feel like my heart is broken and missing a piece, and that I’ll miss her forever, because there is only one tiny cat with a big personality just like her.