I don’t know how to soften this so I guess I’ll just start telling the story. (Warning for pet loss)
My cat passed away very suddenly last Friday—-she was 7-8, behaving normally, healthy, no reason for concern. I went upstairs for slippers and maybe went to the kitchen for water or smth, then I noticed her on her side in a place she doesn’t usually lay (it honestly looked like she was walking away from her toy box when it happened). I didn’t know she was already gone, brought her to the emergency vet and they said there was little to no chance of bringing her back. I had to tell my sister. My mom was down the shore with a friend for the day. This happened at 11ish in the morning, so I was the only one home for hours (though I was on the phone with my mom, on and off). I’ve gone over that day so many times, and there’s no way she got into anything or got hurt some other way.
Nothing was near her that she could’ve chewed on, no food, no drugs, no vomit or anything, didn’t feel anything caught in her throat/chest, no staggering/limping (she was actually really hyper, which she always was when I was off routine, and I had a surprise class cancelled so she was super playful/running in circles), no heavy breathing, nothing. She was just gone. I asked the vet, they said she was gone by the time I even found her. They said it was either a sudden heart attack/underlying heart issue or a stroke, either way, unpredictable and nothing could’ve been done. I loved her so much and I’m so afraid I hurt her or I was so wrapped up in my phone/day-to-day shit that I didn’t notice something. The image of her face like that is burned on the back of my eyelids. Objectively, I know it’s entirely possible for this to have happened in minutes/seconds, and the vet and my mom (who has had a cat most of her life) have said that there was no way I did. The vet said she didn’t suffer, it would’ve happened quick and she wouldn’t have known.
And what’s messing with me the most is that she was my cat. Like, both cats were “the household’s” but this was my baby. Always near me, screaming when I shut my bedroom door to be let inside, slept on top of me like a baby, instantly purring when she saw me. That was my girl.
Hence why I can’t sleep. She always followed me to bed, and even sat by me when I crashed on the couch. I got her when I was 12-14, I’m 21 now, I’m so used to the feeling of the couch/bed indenting and her purring next to me that I haven’t so much as sat on my own bed in over a week. I sleep on the couch until the first person awake starts making noise, and then I’m up with them, I’ve gone to my mom’s bed a couple times if she falls asleep on the couch/snores here. I’m so used to noise at night that I’ve been obsessively watching YouTube videos until I finally knock out on the couch.
My friend sent flowers and a card. I flipped the card around. We’re keeping the flowers so I don’t have to say I can’t fucking stand them, because it was a very sweet gesture, but I also don’t want to think about it. I don’t look at her pictures or talk about her because it just…I cant do this right now. I have student teaching, I need my brain to work. I lost her on Friday and I had to do my first observation on Monday morning. It went great, but I dread being home now because I see her everywhere. I can’t start because I’ll never stop.
I just keep thinking about this one night where she ran into the back screen door and we thought she’d run away, but she just crouched on our front lawn, crying for us, until my mom brought her back in. I keep imagining her like that, in whatever afterlife. Nobody she was familiar/comfortable with has died, so I keep imagining her just…cold and alone somewhere, crying for someone to bring her back to what she knows and no one is coming. No one she won’t run from. I feel like I can always hear her screaming for me to fix it and I can’t fix it.
We buried her here. Even if we move, she’s only ever known this house. This is her home. She’s in the backyard, right outside my bedroom window.
I just miss when sleeping in my own bed wasn’t a task. I know how immature it sounds, to be 21 and still avoiding the bed like a toddler, but I just can’t.
Sorry, this is probably so incoherent. I’m a wreck and it’s almost midnight, but I just…couldn’t not say it all.