(Monday, January 27, 2020) waxing crescent moon Pisces / tarot: Sunday 9 of swords, today Moon
Our beloved feline Lola began having serious health issues last week. She would choke on her food or treats, and her voice changed dramatically. All of her life she had a tiny, high-pitched voice. She never really meowed; she just made a short squeak. “Anh!” She was now meowing at a low pitch, and her purr sounded like a loud rattle.
The vets discussed end-of-life plans but also suggested feeding her gruel: mixing her canned food with warm water. That was really helpful for four days. She seemed happy. Then on Saturday afternoon she howled at the top of her lungs, vomiting three times. She stopped eating. She slept next to me all night and vomited two more times: spittle, not food.
In the morning she went to hide under my bed, so I knew it was time to end her pain. I, the human, howled in agony. I began to sob and shutter as I called MN Pets to schedule her in-home euthanasia.
The vet, Dr. Susan, came at 10:15. I have told everyone I can that she is one of the earth’s Kind Souls. Half of her professional time is spent putting animals gently to sleep, and it shows. She’s been doing it for over 20 years. Lola was shy and a “one-person cat.” I worried that having a stranger come to her home could be disastrous. It was the opposite. Dr. Susan loved Lola’s tiny white elephant toes. She completely took care of Lola, and she took care of me too.
I held Lola in my lap as the two doses of medication were injected. Surprised, I felt a lump on the side of her abdomen I had never felt before. Later, Chris told me the same. He had been feeling lumps on her body. Her brain tumor must have spread to her throat and her stomach.
She passed rapidly, peacefully. Her body was soft and beautiful. I kissed the top of her head, then Dr. Susan and I carefully placed her into her cremation basket, covering her with two green plaid blankets.
Later, in the evening, I sat in bed next to the candle I’d lit for Lola’s passing. I was ready to put out the flame. I looked out the window at the trees that had given me a vision the day I returned from Vancouver. Through the branches I saw two illuminated windows in the house kitty-corner from our yard. They were exactly adjacent, warm gold in color. Lola’s eyes were exquisite, sometimes turquoise and sometimes golden. These windows looked just like her eyes! I felt she was gazing at me from the darkness. I blew out the candle. Amazed. Grateful. Broken-hearted.
