but i knew that the flip side of that was that eventually i would have to fall from that cliff, and how much it was going to hurt when that happened
she could not possibly live forever – though sometimes i wondered – and on tuesday morning,
we had to say goodbye to her. we didn’t want to, of course, but she had fought
so many things so hard for so long against all odds, and for the first time it
was clear that she couldn’t win. all we could do for her is spare her that last,
losing fight
anyone who has followed my posts over the past … well, for as
long as i’ve been on social media, because she was actually older than social
media, knows much of her story, and i don’t want to take this space to repeat
the various mortal afflictions she basically laughed off for two decades. or the
vet who told us not to get too attached to her … 17 years ago. or even tell the
story about the way i came up with her name for the millionth time. (tho i’m
happy to do that one if you ask)
i have had at least one cat continuously since 1987, when i was
in college and still living with my parents, and it isn’t lost on me that being
a cat guy, like pink cocktails, is part of my personality. all of our cats have
been great – razzle, meeko, jazmine; i could tell you stories about them all –
but najah was simply next level. i just can’t believe how smart, willful and
affectionate she was. and how easily and effectively she communicated with us. she
had huge, expressive eyes, and it just never seemed unclear what was on her
mind at any given time. if she could have talked, she could not have made
herself more clear. she had opinions on everything, and wasn’t shy about them
she had an infinite supply of love. she was a huge fluffball
and was happiest when there was a lap to curl up on or a leg to curl up
against. and when she thought it was time for that to happen, she was perfectly
willing to go sit next to a chair or couch and stare judgingly at you until you
relented and sat to become the thing she would curl up on. and then you better
not have anything planned for a few hours. she seemed to cherish that time as
much as i did, to the point that i felt literal guilt when i was out of town and
we didn’t have our couch time
this may be a weird non sequitur, but i can’t remember ever
being angry with her. not once. i honestly can’t remember her ever doing
anything wrong
i haven’t posted a positivity list for june, and i’m
conflicted about it, because i kept one, and there was a lot of good stuff in
it. there were also a lot of empty spaces for days that were too hard, and there
was a lot of stuff that was outdated by the time that i would’ve posted, and
some that became unbearably painful by july 5. because most of the month involved
najah’s care. there was a vet tech who was shocked to learn that she was
treating a cat that was only 2 years younger than she was (gulp!). there was the
night in the vet ER when i was sitting up with her late at night, and at the
shift change, i heard the vets excitedly talking about getting to meet the
21-year-old lady that was in the house. and there was the moment of painful
poignancy when i was at the paul mccartney concert and he played “let it be”
and “live and let die” back to back, and it was more than i could take; it was
the first time i’ve ever cried at a show, as far as i can remember. and, i
mean, i crumbled
there was also the day she came home from the ER, and the
day that she started eating with a bit of vigor, and it looked like maybe she
was pulling through yet again
but it all just feels like a lie at this point. so i didn’t
post it
which is the worst possible tribute to her. without fear of
overstatement, it’s possible that she, more than anyone or anything, made that
list – and that general attitude – possible. she made it nearly impossible to
be anything less than positive. because no matter how bad my day was, i knew
that she would be there when i got home, waiting to curl up on my lap and make
me forget anything bad that had happened up to that point. it was soooo easy
for her, and it was endless. surely if it was that easy for her to erase the
stupid of the world, then there was probably more of that energy out there, if
we just looked for it, and took the time to notice it
i haven’t started a file for july yet. i’ve seen and felt
things i’d otherwise include. i got to talk to one of my favorite artists after
a show and thank her for playing a song i love for the first time at a show i
was at. i got to cook for a friend going through his own pain. kind friends who
know I’m gutted have reached out to make sure i’m ok when they know i’m not. a line in a counting
crows song connected with me in a new, visceral way. but i’m still overwhelmed
with the grief of knowing i can’t just go over to her bed and give her a quick
squeeze anytime that i need it. or she needs it. or we need it
but i can feel her big judgy eyes glaring at me. “did i teach
you nothing?” so we’ll see
and if I have to make an entry for july 5, it would be that i am profoundly
grateful that i was there, sitting on the floor with her curled up against my
leg and my hand wrapped around her furry torso at the very instant we lost her.
it seems insane to be grateful about the moment a huge chunk of my soul
evaporated, but the gift was in how she filled it as long as she did. i wanted
to be able to look into her eyes, hoping that she could read mine as easily as i
could hers, so she would know in that moment, like all before it, how much i
loved her. but she seemed as comfortable as possible under the circumstances
against my leg, and that seemed most important. it was the hardest thing i’ve ever
had to go through, and days later i’m still breaking down into ugly cries at
mere, unlikely triggers. (if you interact with me, be aware that i have no idea
how long that will last.) but there is nothing i wouldn’t have done for that
cat
it was an honor to know her for more than 21 years, and to
be there with her until the last minute
postscript: when i need comfort, i turn to culture where i can. i created a playlist of songs to help me get through. it’s a work in progress, but here it is if you're interested.
also, i found a poem from the early 20th century called “faith.” an excerpt:
One more dark passage to come,
One more sharp sorrow to bear;
But still in the sunlight I'll lift up my head,
And feel its warm radiance there
– najah woodward
