Phoenix

The grey skies outside match my mood this morning. It’s been less than 24 hours since my beautiful cat Rocket died in my arms at the vets. He deteriorated overnight on Thursday, and I had to make the difficult decision to end his suffering. I am beyond heartbroken. He came to us at 6 weeks old. The seven years we had together were beautiful. He was a soft and gentle soul. He always sensed when I needed comfort. My other cat Neesha joined us when he was about two years old. She’s feisty, has been through some trauma and is very dominant. Although they shared our home relatively peacefully, she would sometimes pick on him. Despite Rocket being much bigger than Neesha he would never hurt her. Sometimes she would tumble him over and he would just extricate himself from under her without retaliating or hurting her. He loved a gentle snuggle. His favourite toys were a stuffed toy fish and a cat tickler, both of which he had since he was a kitten. He would sit under my piano and rub his head on my leg whilst I played. Recently he would rub his head against the headstock of my guitar or ukulele. I really enjoyed his presence as I played. I am going to miss that so much. My heart is in so much pain at the loss of my beloved familiar. Some of my younger alters are still screaming into the void. They are struggling to understand that there isn’t a bottomless pit of money, and why I would make the decision I did. The vet could have operated but his condition would have deteriorated again. Until he was admitted to the vet on Thursday I watched him in so much pain and distress. Despite being on morphine, gabapentin, anti inflammatory medication and antibiotics he was suffering and I couldn’t let his suffering carry on. It’s strange, the silent hole he has left in our home. He wasn’t a noisy cat and preferred resting places that were dark and secluded. Yet the silence he has left behind feels so painful.

I am relieved he is no longer in pain.

RIP my beloved familiar.

Phoenix