dangerous compassions

I call you / from the comet's cradle

Tuesday, December 01, 2015

trigger warning: cat death

One of our cats is sick.  His name is Tiger.  Or, for all I know, her name is Tiger.  Ming and JR just took him to the vet in a towel.  I don't think Tiger's coming home.

One step up from a stray, Tiger is an outside cat.  Our friend who also lives here, H, is the one who feeds the cats.  We still have Nonchalant, Rainbow, the white cat, and Wally.  Orange cat.  Maybe someone else I'm forgetting.

It brings up old cat feelings for me.  Guilt and shame, because with enough money, could his life be saved?  Should we have given him a better life?  But it seems like he had a very good life.  Grief and loss, because death feels like a tragedy and such a weird thing.  Here one day, gone the next.  Here one minute, gone the next.

To cremate him will cost $130.  My last cat who died, Kitty--I guess I'm still not over that.  Cat in a blanket, that time, and a crying ex-husband.  What a mess.


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