I was not raised to be a cat lover. My aversion was a learned response from my family’s reaction to cats.
When I started dating my husband, the topic of his cats came up early in conversation. Jaguar was a male, dark brown (black looking) Manx, and Pixel was a female dilute torti. Upon meeting the cats, I quickly found out that Jaguar had to give everyone he met a quick bite to state his dominance in the relationship. After the initial bite, he was a cuddle-bug. Pixel, on the other hand, was very dainty and the sweetest little girl. She curled up with Jaguar, as one cat ball, and they would nap together all the time. So cute!!
When Pixel began vomiting and drinking more water than usual, we made an appointment with the veterinarian. Blood work results concluded that our little girl was suffering from renal failure. We learned how to administer subcutaneous fluids to keep her from dehydrating and she was given a special diet along with additional medications.
The diagnosis of feline renal failure is an invitation to a funeral. Pixel may have lived about two years longer than most “renal failure cat families” because we were on a strict subcutaneous fluid routine and we kept regular veterinarian appointments.
October 8, 2003…Quality of life was the deciding factor for the one-way trip to the veterinarian’s office where the last kisses were administered and the first tears flowed. I could not stop crying. The pain was raw and insufferable.
Did I mention that I could not stop crying? About one week passed since Pixel passed. I was on the second level of my home where Pixel and I spent a lot of one-on-one time together. I was on my knees on the floor, in the middle of the room, sobbing uncontrollably, mourning the loss of our sweet little girl. Remembering how she suffered during her final days kept me in this crouched position, dehydrated from the river of tears pouring out of me. Here, at my lowest point, I began to cry out to God seeking His peace from the pain I was experiencing. After this heart-felt prayer, it happened. I began to feel warm. First my head, then my shoulders and arms. Next thing I knew, my torso, legs and toes…all warm. I instantly stopped crying and I was at peace.
God showed up, as I had asked, and He hovered over me as a warm blanket of peace. What an awesome feeling.
I was not raised to be a cat lover. My love for cats was a learned response from Pixel and Jaguar’s reaction to me.
Today is the anniversary of your passing, Pixel. Rest in peace, our precious little girl.
Psalm 29:11 (NIV)
The LORD gives strength to his people;
the LORD blesses his people with peace.
There is a pounding in the chest,
a faucet at the pores,
a deflated self-confidence,
a slow dance viewed from the wall.
There is a brightness so blinding,
a boom so deafening,
a chatterbox so muting,
a relationship that lives in abuse.
There is a movement in the lawn,
a bird in the tree,
a squirrel on the fence,
a cat in quest of a hunt.
There is a vacancy in the womb,
a longing to conceive,
a desperation to pro-create,
a prohibiting reminder that is flowing.
There is a machine to purify,
a food consumption ritual,
a phone call in the night,
a kidney that is ready for new life.
There is a forgiveness freely given,
a peace beyond understanding,
a hope not of this world,
a name that is written in the Book of Life.