Sometimes drawing the everyday is not at all an every day thing. When you know something is going to happen, when there’s a goodbye to be said.
Polly was only with us for a little over a year but she was more than 20 years old; she was mostly well, just increasingly stiff, a bit deaf, only able to eat a little at a time. And during that time she was gradually more conversational (she had a range of sounds that steadily expanded as well as a very expressive silent miaow for talking face to face at close quarters) and increasingly more loving. From above she looked like a bundle of autumn leaves. Underneath she was creamy white, silky soft, and she had the smallest little round front paws on any cat I’ve ever seen. She was gentle, polite, determined, and as time wore on a bit absent minded.
Old age catches up. Eventually there was more pain from arthritis, and then other failings. It’s so hard to know when it’s time to say enough is enough, but when the suffering gets to a certain point you know the time has come to let go.
Yesterday was that day. The rest of the day was full of sadness and the days to come will still feel empty and strange. I find myself still speaking her name and expecting to see her when I open a door or come into a room. Her chair is empty. Her dishes all put away, the litter tray gone, her basket packed up and hidden in the garage. Tears come suddenly at unexpected moments when I know her to be gone. Once again we are going through the pain of losing a friend, a special companion, a small creature who came to us because she wanted to and decided to stay. We loved her, and we won’t forget.
Love never stops.