I am not of a “conventional” religion though spirituality plays a big role in my life. Reading this gave me comfort in this, my week of mourning.
My baby. My Cat, and first real pet (I have grown up around “family” pets and others pets. Animals have always been in my life.). Mojo was the first one that I was “mommy” to. I have loved and lost many a pet, but never as a mommy.
It was a shocking, and if ever have I had one a “What the fuck” moment to end all “What the fuck” moments. For there was nothing leading up to it. No signs of anything wrong. It was just…that. Yet so many a nuance was paved to make it seem, if it had to be, almost perfect.
Earlier that morning I had been petting his ear as he laid in a chair. He purred and was so content. I did find it a little odd that he let me pet his ears. He would shake his head and twitch them like crazy (Hard, seeing as how his head was his favorite place to get scratched! :)) Then I went out grocery shopping. We came back. Everything normal. Everyone fine. I sat down to get some work done and Mojo was right at my side. I pet him and assured him that I would feed him soon. Eventually I went upstairs. The cats had been fed and I had gone into my room to get some exercising done to keep me limber for the pointe practice I have been doing in the evenings. I then heard pounding on my wall and hissing. I went to see that in the office sinny (The gray depth kitty) had Jojo (The regale lovely) pinned on my desk in our office. I shooed him away. Mojo was in the door way just watching- as he usually did. I went back, shut my door and continued some yoga practice. That’s when I heard a little more wrestling. I thought nothing of it a held my pose. A few minutes later there was a panicked knock at my door. I thought it was just someone letting me know that Sinny was just being Sinny. No, it was a roommate saying that Mojo was by the front door acting weird. I rolled my eyes thinking he was just being paranoid about the bat thing. I opened coming out asking as we ran down the stairs “what’s weird?”. When he said twitching on his side I went pel-mel.
There he was just as he had said. On his side his tongue coming in and out, his breath a wheeze. His eyes searching, so panicked so worried until he saw me. I was on my knees holding his head, rubbing his cheek. “It’s ok Mojo, it’s ok” His eyes held mine and I knew, as if in a sigh of relief, he had let go.
I was so worried it had been a playing accident. That it could have been prevented. That if only I had gone out. If only I had brought him into my room. If only…
As it turns out, just moments before my roommate had seen Mojo on the steps cleaning himself. All was usual. It was most likely internal. Something that he was born with. Weather that be a heart problem, aneurism, tumor, we don’t know. He was a tuxedo cat and they are very common around here. It could have been inbred. All I know is he didn’t suffer. And that, blessed be I can love so much. We gave him the best life. He was found injured as a kitten. His paws were messed up. When we went to the pound he was the only one I looked at. He played and put on a show. He was the only on I looked at in the beginning and I was the only one he looked at in the end.
Now I do not recount this day’s events because I think you want to be sad, that people like hearing about losing pets. I don’t write it because I like either of the two myself. I write because I believe that mourning can be a positive thing. So many people gathered round me. Supported me. Loved me. And I knew that all the love coming to me was all the love that Mojo had enjoyed in his life. That gave me great comfort. He was a fat, happy and über indulged cat.
The pain that I felt (My eyes were so swollen that you could barely tell they were there!). The lose. To hurt that much is so…beautiful. Because it means that you can, and do love that much. I told my dear friend that if someone were to give me an animal and say that it only had a year to live I would take it. Because it would be worth it. I can mourn without regret because I loved without regret.
Mourning to me is a learning experience. Is a way of remembering and reopening your eyes to the love that gathers around and the love you yourself are capable of. It’s a celebration of the love you had and the love you have.