Goodbye my old friend

Yesterday (Oct. 13, 2012) I said goodbye to my old friend and companion. As I sit and think about all that has transpired in the last few days I can't help but feel sadness, a little regret, and more than a little appreciation.

Sadness - a normal emotional response. Ernie came into my life in 1995. After moving into my own house during my junior year at the University of Arizona I decided it would be lovely to adopt a cat. The day I visited the Tucson Humane Society they had several kittens, but one tiger striped kitty with abnormally large ears decided to claw his way up my sleeve and perch on my shoulder. There was an instant connection. After the standard wait time Ernie came home with me, and there he stayed from Tucson to Minneapolis, to Vegas, to Chicago, to San Diego, to St. Louis and finally to Boston. He was my companion during some of the most brilliant as well as bleak moments in my life. In fact he was the only fellow creature who had seen me through all of my major adult milestones.  (College graduation, graduate school, meeting/dating/marrying Andrew, the birth of James and Lilith, the addition of Elvis to the family, multiple homes, and multiple jobs). His death has left a void in my heart and in this house.

Regret - a strange response. There is no doubt that when James, and later Lilith, came along that Ernie was removed from his previously high pedestal. Once we moved to St. Louis we had a hard time deciding how to set up the house in order to keep Elvis (and James) out of Ernie's food, and keep James from falling down the stairs. It was decided that Ernie would live in the basement. To be honest the basement was larger, sunny, and more comfortable than our other houses/apartments, but he was often separated from the rest of the family. This is something I deeply regret.

Appreciation - an even stranger response. I have never had to put an animal down before. I wasn't sure what to expect. The vet had told me that I could leave him with her, or I could stay with him during the procedure. I opted to stay, and I'm glad I did. Ernie lay quietly on my lap while the vet administered, first a tranquilizer, than eight minutes later an overdose of anaesthesia. Ernie quietly rested his head in my hand during those eight minutes allowing me to rub behind his ears - he always liked that. He made no move to jump down or squirm away. I think he knew.

It didn't take long for the drug to take action and Ernie slipped away within moments.  I wasn't sure what I should do next. Looking to the vet for answers, she  mentioned that I could stay with Ernie as long as I liked, but that I should simply leave his body on the table before I was ready to leave. She also wanted to know if I wanted a hair sample as a keepsake. I kind of chuckled, brushing Ernie's hair off my sweater, and kindly said "no -I'll probably be finding his hair around the house for years." But leaving,  this was one of the strangest things I've ever done, standing up, with Ernie's lifeless body in my arms, and leaving him there on the table looking very peaceful as if only taking a nap. But I did as the vet instructed. Before leaving I bent over and whispered into his now very average sized ear "Thank-you".

I wasn't expecting this to be so hard. Ernie had been sick for a while - suffering from kidney disease. He had stopped eating and required IV fluids and pain medication. He was no longer the feisty cat from a few years ago. It was time to end his suffering. What I wasn't ready for was the emotional overload that hit me like a truck. After leaving the office I sat in my car crying - rather wailing. When I was finally able to think clearly I felt silly - he was afterall just a cat right?! That's what alot of you are probably saying. But that's not it at all - Ernie had become an integral part of my life. I fed that cat every day for 17 years and 3 months (give or take a few holidays when friends and family would help out), I bathed him and cleaned out his soiled litter box  (I don't even have that kind of relationship with Andrew - and when it finally comes to that I'll probably put Andrew down too). Ernie depended on me to take care of him and in return he offered me his companionship. It was a loving, symbiotic relationship. What's more is that Ernie continues to give. What I've been thinking about for the past two days is that life is truly precious and fleeting. I've never watched another living thing die before, much less hold them in my arms, and it gave me a much greater appreciation of life. So again I need to say "Thank-you".

I'll miss you Ern....
- The way you used me as your own human pillow
- The way you "perched" on the arms of sofas or on walls
- The way you used to manipulate your claws and literally "pluck" at my face when I wouldn't acknowledge you first thing in the morning
- Your feisty reaction to catnip
-  Our conversations when you were a bit younger....I swear you would answer my questions
- Your interactions with Andrew, Elvis, James and Lilith

- Your extremely loud purr that everyone in the room could hear
- The odd time you would let your tongue peak out from your mouth
- Your friendly nature - with everyone