I know just a few days ago I said I was going to get back to posting every day, but at least this time I have a good reason for not doing it. My cat died. It happened on Tuesday night, very suddenly. One minute he was fine and the next he was curled up beside mum's bed, dead. The only good thing about it is that it seems like he didn't feel any pain or anything. Thinking about it later that night, I wondered if he knew he was going to die. Only the day before he had been acting more loving than usual toward everyone, and had been laying closer to us. I wonder now if he knew it was going to happen and was taking the opportunity to be with us a last time and say goodbye.
Now, usually in my house when a pet dies, my parents - who are not as connected to either animals or the process of death as me - simply throw the bodies away, since there's nowhere around here anymore to bury them, thank you park renovation. But those are usually small pets, and that was not happening in this case. Since we didn't have anything to put him in, they wanted to put him in a bin bag anyway, to put out on the balcony. I happen to believe that's disrespectful to the body so I insisted on first wrapping him in an old towel (it would have been a blanket if I had one). First though, I had them take one last photograph of him. As you can see, I have a bit of an obsession with death traditions.
The next day we took him to the vet to be cremated (I would have voted for taxidermy, but that was way out of my price range). The price for this was £143, almost half the money I had left for the whole summer. I had to pay for it myself because my parents didn't have the money. It would have been a lot cheaper (£25) if I hadn't chosen to keep his ashes afterwards, but I had to. Personally, I think the price was a bit much (then again, of course I'd think that now I have a lot less I can do in the summer) but it was worth it. I should be getting him back in 2 weeks.
Our other cat Sonny also had a really hard time for a couple of days. All Wednesday he just laid on the sofa quietly, and when he wasn't doing that he just wasn't himself. I sat with him a lot, stroking him, talking to him and trying to play with him, just trying to make him feel better and get back to normal. He seems fine now though. It was hard for me for a couple of days too, still is when I think about it, but I'm good too.
Trixie 6th June 1998-1st May 2012
(This is the final picture taken of him, the one after his death. At this point, he still looked alive.)
I've had Trixie since I was 6 years old (I'm 19 now). So he was a big part of my life for pretty much all my life. It's weird not having him around anymore. I thought we'd still have a few years with him at least, even if he was getting old...
Not really sure how to end this so I'll just leave it here...