Fatty's dance with death
This is an update for all who knew about Fatty possibly dying yesterday. He was on his way home to the happy kitty land. He was violently ill on Sunday and by Monday he could barely stand, all thanks to a pesky hairball that dehydrated him when vomiting to the point where he couldn't walk. I cried then tried to reason with myself saying that this was it and that as a responsible adult I should take him out of his misery and have him put down. We took him to the vet, we discussed cremation options and paw print options and picked a plot in the back yard where to bury him. It is a nice spot where the deer graze and the fox trot and cardinals flutter, he would be perfectly buried among his friends.
We said our goodbyes on Wednesday and I couldn't sit still and decided that the best way for Fatty to leave us would be with a good salute to him. I put him in the place where he would be happiest, in the middle of the kitchen floor in the way. His little face beamed with satisfaction. I stepped around him as I made Fatty and Maryland inspired dishes: Maryland blue crab quiche and shrimp alfredo. As I cooked he swayed back and forth and I told him what a very good boy he was and that it would be painless and ok to pass on at the vet. We said good night and goodbye, certain he would die overnight, and he didn't to our surprise.
The next day he stumbled out of bed weakly, ate a good breakfast and cleaned his face. I called family so they could say their goodbyes. My dad looked at him and declared, "He ain't ready to die yet! The old guy is cleaning his face and sitting in the sun! Dying cats hide and don't eat. Give him another day!" I decided to give Fatty till the afternoon. He hopped on my lap purring away softy and he looked fine gaining strength by the moment. I sang songs to him and read him poems on death by Samuel Coleridge and Tennyson. He loved them. . We kept looking at each other at moments wondering if now was the time to roll over and die or if now was the time to call Dr. Vet and say goodbye. Then a nuzzle and a purr extend that moment a few more minutes.
We have been here before, at the gate of death over the last 17 years and each time we have sat at the door and looked inside and each time Fatty has decided that he can come back for a few more years. I've been patient with him each time death has approached and sat with him feeling him out for a few days to see if his love for food and life and cuddles arises in him, and so far it has time after time. But this time it is different. The swell of the tide didn't come back so fast this time, it is like the tide is out to sea and wavering wanting to come back making it slowly. By nightfall yesterday he was eating, cuddling, drinking water and using the bathroom like half of his good old self. At one moment he looked at my puffy face as to say, "I will do my part to get through this if you do my part to help me." I realized that I was ready to say good-bye and he wasn't. He was telling me that the end is close but it isn't today, maybe soon but he isn't ready yet.
The past few days have been beautiful and sad with him. I've loved remembering his little life and his sweet personality. He is such a gentle soul that brings a sense of luxurious fulfillment when you look at him and see his fluffy belly slowly breathe and his face look placid in any circumstance. Every person who has met him has fallen wildly in love with him, and he could care less because he knows he is a hot commodity.
So to everyone who thought about Fatty, thank you! For those that stuck up for him and even said a prayer as far as Avila, Spain, thank you! He is here for one more day, maybe another week or maybe another month. He isn't in pain or suffering. He is eating, resting, purring and recovering and listening to relaxing cat music on YouTube. I on the other hand need strong coffee and a good nap. Saying good-bye then realizing that I would have to go through these emotions again was hard. But we are ok. This is life. When someone will decided to be born or die can be so unpredictable.
The End
Poems and songs I read to Fatty preparing him for the death he didn't want to reach:
1. La Guadalupana: the song to the Virgin of Guadalupe. I sang asking her to cover me with her mantle as I passed through this.
2. Salve Regina. Asking Mother Mary for comfort in this trial. This is my favorite Marian prayer.
3. "This Lime Tree Bower My Prison" poem written as Samuel Coleridge was dying
4. Psalm 23 "The Lord is My Shepard" by King David
5. "They Dying Swan" by Lord Alfred Tennyson
We said our goodbyes on Wednesday and I couldn't sit still and decided that the best way for Fatty to leave us would be with a good salute to him. I put him in the place where he would be happiest, in the middle of the kitchen floor in the way. His little face beamed with satisfaction. I stepped around him as I made Fatty and Maryland inspired dishes: Maryland blue crab quiche and shrimp alfredo. As I cooked he swayed back and forth and I told him what a very good boy he was and that it would be painless and ok to pass on at the vet. We said good night and goodbye, certain he would die overnight, and he didn't to our surprise.
The next day he stumbled out of bed weakly, ate a good breakfast and cleaned his face. I called family so they could say their goodbyes. My dad looked at him and declared, "He ain't ready to die yet! The old guy is cleaning his face and sitting in the sun! Dying cats hide and don't eat. Give him another day!" I decided to give Fatty till the afternoon. He hopped on my lap purring away softy and he looked fine gaining strength by the moment. I sang songs to him and read him poems on death by Samuel Coleridge and Tennyson. He loved them. . We kept looking at each other at moments wondering if now was the time to roll over and die or if now was the time to call Dr. Vet and say goodbye. Then a nuzzle and a purr extend that moment a few more minutes.
We have been here before, at the gate of death over the last 17 years and each time we have sat at the door and looked inside and each time Fatty has decided that he can come back for a few more years. I've been patient with him each time death has approached and sat with him feeling him out for a few days to see if his love for food and life and cuddles arises in him, and so far it has time after time. But this time it is different. The swell of the tide didn't come back so fast this time, it is like the tide is out to sea and wavering wanting to come back making it slowly. By nightfall yesterday he was eating, cuddling, drinking water and using the bathroom like half of his good old self. At one moment he looked at my puffy face as to say, "I will do my part to get through this if you do my part to help me." I realized that I was ready to say good-bye and he wasn't. He was telling me that the end is close but it isn't today, maybe soon but he isn't ready yet.
The past few days have been beautiful and sad with him. I've loved remembering his little life and his sweet personality. He is such a gentle soul that brings a sense of luxurious fulfillment when you look at him and see his fluffy belly slowly breathe and his face look placid in any circumstance. Every person who has met him has fallen wildly in love with him, and he could care less because he knows he is a hot commodity.
So to everyone who thought about Fatty, thank you! For those that stuck up for him and even said a prayer as far as Avila, Spain, thank you! He is here for one more day, maybe another week or maybe another month. He isn't in pain or suffering. He is eating, resting, purring and recovering and listening to relaxing cat music on YouTube. I on the other hand need strong coffee and a good nap. Saying good-bye then realizing that I would have to go through these emotions again was hard. But we are ok. This is life. When someone will decided to be born or die can be so unpredictable.
The End
Poems and songs I read to Fatty preparing him for the death he didn't want to reach:
1. La Guadalupana: the song to the Virgin of Guadalupe. I sang asking her to cover me with her mantle as I passed through this.
2. Salve Regina. Asking Mother Mary for comfort in this trial. This is my favorite Marian prayer.
3. "This Lime Tree Bower My Prison" poem written as Samuel Coleridge was dying
4. Psalm 23 "The Lord is My Shepard" by King David
5. "They Dying Swan" by Lord Alfred Tennyson
Comments
Post a Comment