Longing

The last few weeks have been terrible. Olivia's death, the stress of whether Tabitha will eat and her wellbeing, my failure as a caretaker of cats. Then also Tabitha died. Too much for me to bear. I thought that Tabitha's death would be easier to bear because Olivia "paved the way" and because we could prepare in advance for weeks for Tabitha's death, but no. I just can't bear the thought of Olivia and Tabitha not existing anymore.

 

 

When for 17 years, my whole life and routines have been built around taking care of cats 24/7, then the foundation falls out of my whole life. When I no longer have to worry about Olivia and Tabitha, life becomes completely different. Empty. Without content. How much of my life have I spent feeding cats, for example?

Did I spend enough time with Tabitha and Olivia? Did I pet them enough? Did I know how to appreciate every day, every moment? I didn't. But of course, no time in the world would have been enough.

Sometimes panic strikes, and I would like to go back in time and make different choices. Although I know those choices would have been wrong. Still, euthanasing a cat feels awful. Like the last betrayal towards the cat. Even if its purpose is to save her from suffering.

A couple of nights before Tabitha's death, I dreamed about Olivia for the first time. She came to bed to comfort me. In the dream I knew it wasn't Olivia but its spirit, but it felt so real. A couple of nights ago, in a dream, Olivia came to the carpet next to the bed. I petted her happily, even though I knew again that it wasn't the real Olivia. But last night's dream was a nightmare. First, Olivia came home from the vet in poor condition, even though she should have been put to sleep. Then Tabitha was outside, and a fox was stalking her. I tried to get to Tabitha before the fox, but no matter how fast  I ran, I never got there.

 

 

I still open the bathroom door after the shower, because I know that Olivia's spirit wants to drink water from the bathroom floor.

No one wants to eat the leftovers of my dinner anymore. That's also why I knew Tabitha wasn't feeling well when she didn't do that anymore.

Now I can change the bed sheets in peace, and I don't have to fight with Tabitha over the domination of the sheets.

 

 

When I realized that I can now put my vomit cup on the nightstand because Tabitha can no longer get stuck behind the nightstand because of it. Tabitha no longer goes to sleep on top of the chest of drawers, through the bedside table and windowsill. You can open the bedroom door without checking if Tabitha is behind it. There are no more cats pushing themselves into wardrobes.

Tabitha no longer waits in the evenings to take a shower and brush teeth with my spouse. And she will never lie on his pillow purring again.

The home feels quiet and empty. No need to count to three anymore. There is only one cat left. My oldest cat, 19-year-old Kali. The most sociable cat was left alone. Kali has never been the only cat. Kali has clearly been wondering and looking at where the other cats are. Where did they go?

Kali doesn't need much. Felix soup wet food and Bilanx energy snacks, and not much else. It's so much cheaper than before.

There are three litter boxes, four scratching posts, three dry food bowls, four water bowls and a drinking fountain for one cat.

 

 

I realized soon after Olivia's death that I want to get a white cat soft toy to sleep with for comfort.