Life sucks · 9:18pm Dec 11th, 2020
I feel the need to post this not because I’m looking for sympathy, but because writing has become an ever more important outlet in a world that, for mutual safety, requires people to stay apart when they most want or need others to be close. That, and it hurts so much that I don’t feel like working on any of my current stories and this is actually helping.
When it comes time to say goodbye to a beloved pet, it sucks. It really, really sucks. As in, spending hours on FaceTime with family and going through a whole box of Kleenex. But when you have to say goodbye through a phone screen while you’re overseas on the other side of the world, it makes you want to tear apart anything within your reach. Mattresses, pillows, couches, chairs. It doesn’t matter. Any kind of physical exertion to distract yourself from the feeling in your chest of having had something torn away. There’s no one there in-person to grieve with, and no possibility of giving your furry family member one last hug and scratch on the head. No chance to tell them again how much they’ve meant to you and how much better your life has been with them by your side. There is no opportunity to be there with them and tell them that it will be okay; they don’t have to suffer through the pain and disease and confusion anymore.
I know they can’t understand the precise words we’re using, but I hope they can sense how much we have loved and will continue to love them in those last tearful moments. To anyone who ever says or thinks “it’s just a dog” or “it’s just a cat” and there’s no reason to feel like you’ve just lost a relative, you have my pity.
My little Olive was 16 years old and had been with me for almost 8 of those years. For the first half of her life, she lived almost exclusively alone, being fed by owners who didn’t want her around and gave her no love or attention, but felt obligated to at least keep her healthy. When I came home for a visit, my parents had taken in this cat that reportedly had rejected everyone else trying to befriend her. My first day in the house ended with Olive jumping up on the couch with me and immediately settling into my lap. I had been adopted.
When you're single and living alone, something as seemingly mundane as a middle-aged cat becomes an emotional anchor-point and a source of daily joy in a world that often requires that you give most everything to it to move forward. And when you meet another person with whom you decide to spend the rest of your life, and that cherished little four-legged companion accepts them (albeit sometimes grudgingly), you sit back and feel such joy and pride in your small family that you never thought possible.
Olive was always quite the hunter but never killed anything. She only wanted to test herself and feel the thrill and satisfaction of the hunt. Even when everything started going downhill quickly, she still stalked every deer that walked past the window, gave half-hearted chase to rabbits, and warded off every neighborhood cat that dared approach the house. And the sass and personality! Olive had more personality than many people I knew, and she knew it and flaunted it daily.
And then, in a matter of months, everything begins to race downhill, picking up more and more speed as the days progress. And waiting at the end is a sudden, jarring stop that you always knew would come but hoped would come much later than it did. But even up to the very end, through the pain and lost eyesight and disease and innumerable other points of distress, she still fought when someone she didn’t like tired to take her temperature. Olive was a fighter till the end.
I know that time will heal the hurt, but your life feels emptier without that constant companionship. The house back in the States will not be without the soft pattering of paws on the carpet, or the 3 am pleading for way-too-early breakfasts for long; of that, I’m sure. You never forget your fuzzy friends, especially that first one who chose you over everyone else. You will always wish they were still with you. Yet, when the grieving is over, and knowing that you’re going to be put through this same heartache over again, you know you’ll do it again and again. You can’t forget how they made you feel, and you don’t want to be without that feeling again. Even when it feels like you’ve betrayed them by being far, far away and unable to come home to help after they entrusted you with their life.
This is goodbye, Olive. You exasperated me more times than I care to admit with your high-pitched whining for extra treats and insistence on a weekly rotating menu of food that even your two humans didn’t indulge in. Keeping your teeth clean and healthy cost more than it did to do the same for myself! And rather than engage in constructive arguments, you chose to express your displeasure by leaving wet piles of stuff I could seldom identify right where I would step when coming down the stairs. But I would have fought lions and run straight into every danger to try and be even half the person you always seemed to think I was. It was a hell of a ride, kitty cat. Thanks for all the beautiful memories.
P.S. - For anyone looking to add a pet to your life, whether it be a cat or dog, or any other animal, please consider your local adoption centers or fostering before visiting a breeder. I can tell you from experience that you’ll fall even more in love with, and never regret picking, that sleepy senior cat who’s been in the shelter forever because no one wanted a pet who might only live for another few years. Or that lopsided mutt that tried to dig her way out of a kennel as you passed by because you’re exactly who she’s been looking for. Every animal deserves a loving home and a chance to spend their years in happiness.
My cat is 16 too but is quite healthy, all things considered. Reading this post and seeing pictures of beautiful Olive makes me appreciate how lucky I am. I'll give my kitty an extra hug tonight for sure. Thank you for helping me see what truly matters in life, and I wish you all the best in the future.
It's always hard to lose someone you love. I can feel your pain, bro. These pictures of Olive remind me of my grandma's cat.
I used to play with her a lot. But now they are both gone. Life sucks. Because sometimes people don't share the same kind of feeling. Harmful words come spilling out and they don't care about your feelings.
I've been through a lot this year. And I'm trying to live through all kinds of bullshit because there is still something I really care about. Life must continue. And I hope things will work out for both of us.
I'm so sorry for your loss, Kai. It makes me miss my cat, Moonbeam, but thank you for writing about Olive!
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Thank you all. It's been helpful looking at the all the pictures and videos, and reliving stories with my wife over video chat this past weekend. And your kind words are much appreciated.