We should’ve gotten used to it by now that whenever something good happens, something bad is right around the corner and the bad overshadows the good way too often…
Just when we relaxed a little bit after finally filling up the gas tank,
we suffered a huge heartbreak totally unexpectedly, with no warning and absolutely out of the blue. We didn’t see it coming, we couldn’t possibly have seen it coming and it doesn’t make the impact of the brutal blows any easier to accept and handle. In only the
matter of a couple of days, we lost three of our protégés, three beautiful, amazing furry creatures. Joca, Veca and Luce are no longer with us and what makes things even harder to bear, if they can conceivably get any harder, is that they were not “just cats”, but our friends,
our companions, our four legged furry jewels that we’ve been taking care of, cuddling, comforting and fighting for since we first laid our eyes on them. They were the ones we vowed to love with all our hearts until the last breath, theirs or ours…until the last breath and beyond.
However heart-wrenching it may be, I simply have to write about them one last time, as if this loving final farewell to each one of these forever gone beauties will somehow release
them and set them free. So here’s to our angels, our precious meowing gems…
Luce was an 18 year old kitty girl whose owner sadly passed away last year and she evidently couldn’t reconcile herself to the loss of her beloved human. She’d been protesting and behaving badly at home for months before she arrived at the shelter last autumn, terrified and confused, as she had always been the only pet. However, it didn’t take her long to nicely adjust to her new
surroundings and get used to our kitty crowd, but she never really bonded with any of us here. She was gentle, quiet and lovely, she seemed to enjoy petting, but not one single time did she ever approach us first. Almost unnoticeable, she neither sought nor wanted attention; she was always in her own world where there was room for only one person, her long gone owner of many years. She didn’t exactly look sad, but her pensive and distant expression was clearly showing that she was living back in the
past when her life was filled with love and joy and she was spending her days by her late owner’s side. The present without her human soulmate was totally irrelevant to her and meant nothing. Yet she was here, sweet and nice, doing what most of the cats do, until she suddenly collapsed a few days ago without any warning and we found her lying motionless on the floor of the biggest cats’ room. The vet said she probably had a massive stroke and didn’t suffer one bit, her time had come and she
went painlessly, just like that. Shocked and utterly sad, we choose to believe she is finally eternally happy and cuddling in her owner’s arms, never to be separated again.
Veca was the next to leave us. At the age of 22, we knew she could fall asleep and not
wake up at any possible moment, but she was holding on well, she was still the same old Veca, tiny and frail but strong willed, grumpy, untouchable and uncatchable. When she ate, no one else would come near, when she walked by, all of the cats would
move out of her way. She was surprisingly agile and fast and lived her life to the fullest right up until her passing. She went quietly, in her sleep, and only now that she’s not here anymore we’ve come to realize what a big hole in our hearts such a tiny cat could
and did leave…
Whoever said that “misfortune always come in threes” was right. Joca was between 12 and 15 years old, in perfect health and great shape, a big affectionate kitty boy who was cuddly to boot. He was beautiful
and he knew it, which made him absolutely irresistible and everybody, literally everybody loved him – cats, dogs and humans. Not even in our worst nightmares could we imagine that his life would be cut short. It happened in the morning, one of those gloomy and grey mornings when he was shining like a star with his mostly white fur in our otherwise dark yard. One moment he was alright, the next minute he was dragging his rear legs and we couldn’t believe our eyes. He suddenly became paralyzed and no one
had any idea why. He was quickly rushed to the vet, but the X-rays showed nothing abnormal, his blood work was excellent and what had happened to him was still pretty much a mystery. He was given corticosteroids, antibiotics, vitamins, painkillers (though he
didn’t seem to be in pain) and we were told to wait and bring him back tomorrow. Around 3 a.m, when I checked on him, he was restless in his cage and evidently unable to understand why he couldn't get up – by dawn he was already gone. The vet thinks he died of a thromboembolism; a blood clot that firstly blocked the aorta, cutting off the blood flow to both hind legs which left him paralyzed, and during the night it ultimately passed to his heart. Joca went quickly and without pain, but we are still
wondering how much more sorrow can someone endure before it breaks them completely.
Godspeed and farewell, my little darlings…at least for now. Spread your wings out wide and soar above the skies, fly free bathed in love,
embraced by the light. One day we’ll meet again, somewhere where time ceases to exist.
