Cats don’t need closure as they walk into the sunset to die. They slowly slip away, never looking back. They follow their natural urge to merge back with the Mother releasing their caregivers as they go.
We had a kitty hospice situation this week and as the primary caregiver, I went through all the stages of grief. Even though the stages I went through are listed in order, they all overlapped in time with one another and were experienced repeatedly in random order to varying degrees.
First, I was in shock and denied that these could be Goldi’s last days. Second, I was in pain and agony, filled with the guilt that I had “let” her health decline and blamed myself for this apparent failing. Third, I was angry that I couldn’t fix her or heal her back to health . Fourth, I was incapacitated by my inability to change what is and lived in this depressed state for a few days. Fifth, I received Reiki from my monthly Reiki circle of friends and could finally forgive myself and focus on Goldi again and her pain. Sixth, I moved into action, giving her homeopathic medicines and flower essences for transitions and explored the possibility of having her put her down. Seventh, I accepted what is, without blame or anger tagging along and accessed my compassion for what she was going through and for what I felt for her and for what she meant to me.
What really happened, aka, the obit : A beloved 15 year old gold coloured female cat named Goldi, runt of the only litter of kittens we let her mother Crescent have, suffered with chronic anxiety, nervousness and digestive upset most of her life, lived the good life spending her summers out of doors, always greeted our guests with her purring approach, played in the labyrinth with us all, waited patiently for our return whenever we left, loved all our children and worked out her issues in her old age with our grand daughter (never did show her parents all the scratches), resigned to her decline, waited for us to notice, accept and allow her to make the choice to spend some time outdoors in her confinement, purring all the while, reassuring us that she was still on her path, her way and eventually slipped away into the tall grass to take her final rest.
Cats don’t need closure and caregivers need help accepting the feline way; taking the final walk alone. Knowing she is no longer suffering is a balm for the heart and knowing she is in kitty heaven planning her next life is food for the soul.