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Location: Norwich, UK
Joined: Sep 2006
Posts: 99
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A tribute to Spock (cat)
My cat Spock, died this time last year at 21 years of age. We'd been together since I was six months old and her death was a very emotional experience for me, but one that taught me a lot about life and how I deal with things.
When I noticed Spock's pupils wern't reacting to light, we took her to the vet. She had already gone deaf two years prior, but then she went completely blind within the space of a week. Her bladder and apetite were the next things to go and I then felt a lump in her side that prevented her from being able to lay down on her side. Within two weeks I was having to say goodbye.
I wrote this in my journal last October, and now I post it here in tribute to her once more. I'll always remember you Spock....My best friend.
Tuesday morning I woke up to the sound of Spock howling for the last time. Mum had just left for work and she was lonely and confused I imagine. I had spent the night before sitting up with her against my chest as I laid on my side watching TV. We did the same all morning and I didn't even cry until my mum came home. She was nagging about me leaving one of the damn cushions on a part of the sofa that still stank of Spock's urine. Spock had peed everywhere imaginable since she became totally incontinent and even before then she seemed to prefer other places than her stinky litter tray. We'd resorted to covering half the kitchen with a layer of newspaper because she couldn't even find her litter tray anymore. The bloody sofa cushions were the least of my worries and mum's nagging just made my burst into tears instantly after just being alone with Spock all day thinking of her imminent death in only a few hours. Mum and I ended up swearing at each other and I sat crying on the kitchen floor just staring at Spock for a couple of hours until Chris came round and gave me a hug.
I don't know what got into Mum, but I can assume that maybe she felt just as upset about Spock and wasn't in the best of moods. I still really hate that damn sofa though.
We seemed to forget about our little fight later on though, and Spock had fallen asleep in front of the back door. Thinking about it now makes me cry so much....She looked more peaceful and comfortable than we'd seen her in days. Because of the bulging tumour on her kidney, she wasn't able to lie down comfortably, but this time she was curled up in her usual position with her legs above her head. Her feet twitched every now and again and she was dreaming. It made me cry with happiness to know that she could both see and hear in her dreams and I wondered if she was dreaming of me as much as I'd been dreaming of her these past few nights.
I still hadn't decided if I wanted to go in and see it happen yet, I still wasn't sure if I should even go to the vets. I thought I'd be a mess. At the mere thought of not seeing her again and seeing her body go limp made me feel panicky and cry so hard my sides hurt. I thought I might faint like when I went to have my mouse, Eclipse put down, or throw up or something. I could not understand how my body would be able to comprehend such grief and emotional agony.
I watched the news about the earthquake in Islamabad, and how some people had lost their entire families. I thought that maybe if I thought of them and compared it to my own loss then it would seem silly that I shouldn't be able to cope, but it still doesn't take away how much I will truly miss her. It doesn't take away the physical pain if I try to cover it up with logic.
I was going to just let Mum take Spock on her own, and I'd say goodbye from the house. That way the last I'd see of Spock would be her dreaming deeply by the back door. But when mum stepped in with a cat carrier, I couldn't bear it. I said I couldn't have Spock put inside that thing. She's always been claustrophobic and I couldn't stand the thought of her being inside that thing and feeling nervous and trapped. I said I'd take her.
On the way there in Chris' car I was feeling so sad, but Spock lightened the mood by promptly urinating on my lap as soon as we got onto the main road. I couldn't help but laugh as my jeans became soaked around my crotch. "Yeah, thanks for the goodbye present" I said.
After that, I suddenly felt brave. I knew that if I didn't go in I'd wonder what her last moments were like for the rest of my life. If she had thrown a fit or meowed sadly, or struggled I would have never known. And sitting outside with spock on the pavement, waiting our turn I began to feel braver about the whole situation. I blocked out losing my dad and I was never really upset about that....If I could do that for six years, then surely I could hold out really sobbing for a few minutes?
After the vet put in the first injection, which wasn't the lethal dose, but a strong aesthetic, I crouched down beside her face. Now, you might find this gross but Spock's favourite thing in the whole wide world was earwax. When I held her over my shoulder she would try to get at my ears to lick them, and even if you just touch the inside of your ear and then let her lick your finger, she'd go totally scatty for it. I touched the inside of my ear and held my finger in front of her nose, and even under strong aesthetic, her little tongue stuck out feebly again and again to try to lick it as I stroked her side. She then died with her tongue sticking out trying to taste it. She died <i>happy</i>.
She had three senses left and although she's wasn't able to se or hear me, she could still smell, taste and feel me....And I'm so glad I found the courage to go in and have the peace of mind I have now.
I really thought I'd be so upset to the point of not being able to function, as in going to college or work for a couple of weeks...but I find keeping my mind busy stops me wallowing in meaningless depression. I asked to have the most expensive cremation box and the cost of the whole thing during these past few days has reached over £200. But it's definately worth it compared to watching Spock die slowly and in pain, which is what would have happened if she hadn't been put to sleep, I'm sure of it. She would have starved herself to death before anything else as she had stopped eating altogether during her last few days.
But when I cry now, it isn't because of dread or guilt like before....they're tears of happiness and because I miss her.
From the Chapelfeild Veterinary Surgery
If it should be that I grow weak
and pain should keep me from my sleep
then you must do what must be done
for this battle cannot be won
You will be sad, I understand
don't let your grief then stay your hand
for this day more than the rest
your love for me must stand the test
We've had so many happy years
what is to come can hold no fears
you'd not want me to suffer so
the time has come please let me go
Take me to where my need they'll tend
and please stay with me to the end
hold me firm and speak to me
until my eyes no longer see
Please do not grieve it must be you
who has this painful thing to do
we've been so close, we two these years
don't let your heart hold back the tears.
A picture I drew:
Spock's urn:
The soft toys my boyfriend bought me to hug when I miss her:
A photo manip:
(notice the rock I painted on the left of her
)