The last week or so, since saying good-bye to our cat, Squeakers, has been tough. I have a huge soft spot for animals, and I always have. I grew up with pets and can’t remember a time that I didn’t share my life with animals. Saying good-bye to them has never gotten easier, though. It’s still heart-wrenching.
I have cried until I am exhausted, and I’m sure there will be tears yet to come, as I think of her, remember her, miss her. I washed her little white food bowl for the last time and put it away until I can look at it without the pain of missing her twisting my heart.
Through it all—from that phone call with the vet, through the illness, through the dwindling hope, and then the agonizing last day with her and beyond—my husband has been there. He has brought me tissues, held me when there were no words, stroked my hair in the dark when I couldn’t sleep.
He loved her too. He has been hurting too. Squeakers had her own favorite things to do with each of us. With me, she wanted to be draped over my shoulder and carried around, either in the backyard or in the house, which I jokingly called the house tour, slowly walking from room to room, letting her peek behind shower curtains, peer into shelves, nose around in closets. With him, she liked to be curled up in his lap on the back porch, just sitting together. She rarely sat in my lap, and she didn’t like my husband picking her up. She had very specific expectations for each of us. We didn’t mind. It amused us, and we went along with it because it made her happy.
My husband and I are always there for each other, but I have to admit, I have leaned much harder on him these past few weeks. Losing our sweet kitty really knocked me down. Even though it has been hard for him, too, he has been patient, gentle, loving. I can’t put into words how much I appreciate him, but I will try, because he deserves to know. He is more than a keeper. He is once-in-a-lifetime.
Sweat & Sparkle 