|Precious on her last day in physicality, on Earth|
Today I feel a mix of feelings and responses from sadness to relief, from vulnerability and loss, to ease and freedom. Today I sent my elder kitty cat Precious across the rainbow bridge, to the shape-shifting realms of mystery and light.
|Precious outside, last day of Earth Blessings|
Almost a whole week ago, in my car, parked in the Vitamin Cottage parking lot under rare falling snow, I surfed google on my smart phone, for Cat Euthanasia.
The previous week, I had searched portable pet stairs. My elder kitty girl had been struggling with so many challenges, in her aging process. If she was 8 years old when she came to me, she may have reached 19 or 20 by this year.
She seemed to have Alzheimer's or dementia like symptoms, that caused her to cry out loud, kind of wailing, at various times, for food, company, comfort, or connection. Sometimes she would walk in circles, and kind of keep circling, nowhere in particular, more like a wind up toy, a little lost on the way. Her mind was on rocky ground, and not what it used to be. Her emotions were also strained. She was not the relaxed and happy, aware, care-giving being she used to be. She was retired in many ways from her old offerings.
In her heyday, Precious was always nurturing, loving, grooming, or comforting someone. She brought love and comfort to tender, vulnerable people, and Soul Arts Clients, and to her adopted Tortie Sister Kin, Her Holiness, the Halai Lama. Halai came to us, with a gaping open wound, from a mishap, we only know she somehow lived through, that tore open her underbelly. Her original name was Holy Holly, the Manager's Favorite. I decided immediately, no one in this home will remain named after their worst life trauma and wound.
Precious came to me with the name Precious. Later I learned Rinpoche actually translates to Precious, or Precious One. So here I was blessed to live and thrive with the Precious One, and Her Holiness. Quite a holy team!
|Precious embracing and Halai embraced|
I still remember, when I adopted Precious, a clerk, at the store, cried, and told me she had fostered Precious, for a while. She shared of how Precious mothered some of the unweaned kittens, loving them into trusting this world.
|Precious and Halai on our QHHT bed|
As mentioned Precious was a giver. If she was human, she might have led a codependent support group, as she was always putting the needs of others, before hers. In the cat world, I suppose she was simply very loving, caring, and nurturing. She would groom and love Halai, and gave most of the time, receiving on rare occasions.
In my Healing Practice, she was highly instinctive. I used to confide in clients, that Precious had a kind of a radar, for other givers like her. My starseed clients were often wired like her, set here on this mad planet, to selflessly give and serve. Precious had a special resonance to her own kind. She used to jump up into the lap of these vulnerable visiting starseed, as they cried, reviewing their life and challenges, hopes, dreams and visions. She in some way understood.
Initially, she used to get startled when anyone male came around. I imagined she was emotionally traumatized her self, from some historical moments I could never really understand or fully imagine.
Whatever it was, it made for wonderful compassion, caring, and commiserating. She did learn over time, our home was a safe place for her, and every visiting guest and friend, was a safe being, in our safe haven, too.
She led a good life here. In her zenith, she helped hunt some mice, lizards, snakes and centipedes, on the brick floors of our home. As she eased into her retirement years, and the house eventually got "mouse proofed." She wound down, and eased off of hunting and eventually surrendered to let clients review their life, without rigorous feline support.
|Precious snuggling with Halai|
Further ravages of aging, brought nervous system issues, that caused a rigidifying effect in her extremities, where she was kind of holding on for life. Her back legs became less certain, and would sometimes shake and give way. Leaping up to the couch functioned almost to the end, yet she did, at times not succeed in her leaps. Later still, she would sometimes leap herself, and other times whine out, for a lift.
She remained hungry and food focused, often right after eating, as her aging body became more fur and bones. Yesterday she and her sister enjoyed the American fringe benefits about 4 meals, which they polished off completely.
There was a period of time marked by peeing and occasionally pooping outside the liter box, directly on the brick floor. She was so old, it didn't even smell very strong. Still the job of cleaning it all up, grew greater, near the end.
For a while I used human logic, yelling, putting her in the litter box, shouting no. I even barricaded her in a few times. It made us both... all feel crumby. After a while, I realized, it didn't necessarily follow any logic at all. It was more maybe physiological, and perhaps a result of the dementia. Not sure she could remember to enter a litter box at the end. When she did, if she did, it was my luck, so to speak.
|Shape-shifting Cat Spirit|
I did witness the decline of P's little empire, her life and her world, as her physical, mental and emotional vitality consistently dissipated. Her joy slipped, beyond this realm, and more misery crept in. One day, in March, while eating her dinner, she purred, as loud as a cat can purr, all the while eating her canned salmon, or tuna. I marveled, wondering, how can she purr, and eat, all at the simultaneously. I suppose that was a peak moment for her, at her little dining tray.
She had been rendered toothless, for most of the years of her stay here. She had one small nub of a tooth, left in her whole mouth.
Her eyes seemed to have cataracts, and I had to turn the food bowl around, so she could even eat all the food. She also used to make quite the ruckus, crashing into the food and water tray, both out of handicaps, and as a loud, angry plea for meals! Sometimes, between the brain freeze of dementia, and the back legs growing weak to collapsing, she would wail for direction, focus, and tuna, while circling away from her food bowl, almost mechanically.
She also lost most of her ability to groom herself, and even to surrender or relax her body into a reclining position. Instead she kind of hunched or sat up for the last year or so.
Was it the 5G? Hopefully not.
So while I thought I was placing an "informational" call out to the local mobile Euthanasia Vet, she confirmed that it sounded like it was time to let go. I felt relieved, and my search for stairs to the couch, morphed into an appointment for my Precious to climb up the stairway to heaven, out beyond my embodied vantage point.
I felt relief, and some guilt, making the decision. I suppose I felt guilt, imagining my cat as more of a human. I mean we have more humane options and supports, when our human kin, experience physical deterioration, on the aging journey. I did things like second guessing my decision through using my mini dowsing rods, and testing, "it is better to allow her to go," "it is better to keep her here..." One day, second guessing myself, while driving, I saw what in my lexicon, looked like a very homeless pair of men, in town. I took this to mean, she feels more "homeless" at home, than not. I newly saw surrendering her from life, and struggle, as sending her home to the spirit world, and as more humane, than keeping her here.
I had moments of doubt, guilt, and even wrote a friend, and expressed questioning whether it is a sinister act to, "kill my cat," when I could let her live out her days naturally, until she releases the body herself.
After calling the mobile vet, and arranging the trans-dimensional passage, I went into the Vitamin Cottage: Natural Grocers.
I swapped places, in the produce department, for access to the Brussels sprouts, and blurted out something honest to a baby boomer local woman, standing closer to the fresh ginger root. I said, something like, "I just made a call to a mobile vet, and scheduled to end my elder cat's life." This led to open sharing, vulnerability expression, acquaintance, and the exchange of helpful emotions and teaching stories.
My new friend in the produce aisle, shared that someone told her, after she had to end her dogs life, that if a dog or cat lived as a wild animal, that they would not stick around suffering so much and so long, rather they would cross over much faster. Yet because of love and loyalty, they stick around for their human companions, and one more bowl of wet food!
My produce friendship lasted over an hour, we spoke of the hippies, the starseed, the new hope-of-the-future children, death, loss, pets, people, family, life, and more. We learned that we are both artists and healers, and both highly open-minded stewards birthing and bridging the dawning of this true age, and our New Earth. The universal healing salve of communication, love, compassion, and caring was ignited and shared. We traded names, calling cards, hugs, and inspiration, releasing each other back to our snowy day shopping adventures and lives, all the better for our communications and unique delays.
So today came, featuring our appointment with Amanda, the compassionate Santa Fe Mobile Veterinarian. I spent the week, giving more love and attention to Precious, than she may have known what to do with. We got to spend a life or two loving each other. She seemed like she was indeed my childhood kitty cat, come back for another round, and her tortoiseshell sister pal, the adopted baby sister! Four lives down, 14 to go!
The Vet ran a little late, serving others earlier today. Precious had hid in her little kitty condo, near the window. Prior to Dr. Amanda's arrival, I plucked Precious out, picked her up, and took her outside. We took some photos, and shared some love, gratitude, and coaching at the crossroads. I held on, and Dr. Amanda finally arrived.
And from there forward, I handled the administrative tasks, handed Precious over to her, a couple times, and then Precious remained in my arms, the rest of the time. I sat on the couch, right next to the spot where Precious has sat and slept, since an old boyfriend kicked the cats out of my bedroom, almost 10 years ago.
|"Embrace" Art by me Jen|
Doc Amanda gently guided me through all the steps, waiting until I was ready. I held and comforted my sweetie girl. And when I was ready, the Veterinarian gave precious a sedative shot, in the back skinny thigh, or so. Not sure. I'm not a doctor. P cried out once, and quickly got over it. I held on, as P's body relaxed, more and more and more. I kept comforting, and allowing her and her transition. Her eyes remained open, yet her body went from her rigid aging countenance, to increasing stillness, and softening. I was told the sedative takes anywhere from 2 to 10 minutes. I kept wondering, does she still have a pulse, is her heart still beating? Her eyes were still wide open, yet her neck gave way, and she felt more fluid and less solid. We bonded, and I told her, "I love you," and "see you later," and "have a beautiful journey."
The doc gently pulled on her back leg, to see if she still felt anything, and she made a super soft sound, only audible to me, about 10% of her previous capacity. It was her last sound. The doc asked if I'd like a few more minutes. I never turn down a few more minutes. So I accepted.
When she was really fully sedated, and on her way, the doctor gave her the goodbye injection, and I watched blood flow from her body and slightly fill a tube, before I watched some light pink lethal liquid, empty from a syringe, flowing back down into this little sedated being. All while I got to cradle her in my arms. At some point, the Veterinarian announced that she was on her way. I asked if the Vet thought it looked like Precious had cataracts, as I had wondered for a long time. Her eyes remained open, through, and after her departure. I tried to close them, yet they did not really close. Once the kitty spirit or life leaves, all that original detail and beauty in the eyes goes with it. The Vet explained that the eyes all look dark and clouded over, like they have cataracts, at the end. Oh. The Doc took a stethoscope, and tuned in for the silence. Dr. Amanda got a wet clay disk, and pressed a lifeless paw in, to make a lasting impression keepsake. I went with it. Sure. Whatever helps.
The sadness and loss hit me profoundly, in the car, after making the initial service call, and more directly, after the veterinarian scooped what used to be Precious up, and put her little lifeless body in a beautiful, bright, little Native American patterned shroud, and nestled her into a black fabric like, simple cube like box, for her shell's trip to the crematorium.
As I stood up, Dr. Amanda promptly administered a strong, solid, gentle, understanding hug.
I asked for her business card, and she brought one in to me, after carrying our companion's physical exterior away.
It was the first time I have experienced anything like this.
I would say that it was harder to see Precious struggling, in so many ways, as so many strengths diminished, slowly, over her aging process. So in some way it was a very humane and loving experience to get to be so gently and practically supported, in her Spirit's crossroads and flight. It was my honor, and not really scary, yet overall, natural and real. Dr. Amanda brought Halai over to witness the lifeless Precious. Halai was pretty unphased. The Vet explained that this was pretty normal.
I feel both sad, relieved, and grateful for the life, and love shared.
What a gift, to get to face and facilitate and be served through such a crossroads, in the comfort of our own home.
|Angel Cat by me Jen|
|Remaining Friend Halai, checking out the paw print|
|Halai Cat Dreaming|
|Halai, gazing up at the Spirit World... We miss you Precious Sister Friend|
|Me Jen, on a more social day, many moons ago. Photo by Hinton Harrison|