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| Tiggy enjoying his favorite pastime, sleeping in the sun. |
It’s day three since I lost my cat soulmate, Tigger. I cry at the drop of a hat because EVERYTHING
reminds me of him, so much so that I find it hard to stomach being in my own
house; my own house that used to be my sanctuary where I could relax and be inspired. Now, it’s just a constant reminder of the one
I’m missing the most, and even though my house is full of cats, it still feels
empty because
Tigger was the biggest personality in our home and he has left a
very large hole. My heart is broken.
Tigger had lung cancer and it likely spread beyond that because it
took him fast. The first time the shadow
appeared on his x-rays was back in March when he had a bout of breathing
heavily and we took him in to see the vet.
Back then, we thought he just had pneumonia so we gave him a shot to
help him fight it. He got better and we
didn’t think anything more about it.
Life went back to normal and he continued to eat, play, and snuggle with
me albeit a little more than normal. I
had read somewhere that when cats get older, they tend to spend more time with
their owners. I had thought that was all
it was. Looking back on it now, I truly
think he knew something was wrong and that he wouldn’t have much time so he was
spending as much of it with me as he could because he knew I would take his
passing hard.
We had so many nicknames for Tigger, among them: Wooty, Bubby Woot, Tiggy. He was very special. He was so damn intelligent you could see the
gears turning in his head as he looked at the world. When
he was a kitten, he figured out how to
open the drawers in the kitchen to make stairs to the countertop and he
was the only one of our cats to figure out how to open the doors in our
house.
After we had Nyah and put child locks on all the cabinets, he figured
out how they worked by pulling the cabinets open with his paw and watching
where they caught so he could push the button down with one paw and pull the
cabinet open with the other paw. He got
so good at it that he could open the cabinets with one paw.
We eventually had to take the locks off after he showed Nyah how to get around them.
Tigger was a loving soul.
He took care of me whenever I was sick, always sleeping close by. He insisted on sleeping in my nook,
oftentimes waking me up in the middle of the night with head bumps against my
cheek, whisker tickles on my face, and a soft meow if those two didn't work. Sometimes, he’d turn on the purr to wake me
enough to pick up the blanket. Over the
years it became second nature that he’d ask and I’d hold up the blanket, even when I was asleep as I often woke
up with him snuggled in my nook with no recollect of how he got there. When I changed positions he would climb out
from the blankets, walk around my head, and insist I let him back into my nook.
Tiggy was also brave, athletic, comical, and many other
things I can't even begin to describe because he was truly one of a kind. I have so many memories of him
that I have been recalling these past few days, helping to dry the tears. I’m devastated and sad, needy for comfort;
I’m an emotional mess. But, I’m also
angry that cancer took my Tiggy away.
Fucking cancer. I hate it and I
don’t understand how or why it could take my Bubby Woot away. Along with the anger, sometimes I’m a little
in denial that he’s gone. It doesn’t
feel real. Often, I expect to see him greet me at the
door when I come in or to watch him come trotting in that funny, floaty way that was all his own style to the
food dish when I opened a can of wet food.
I think I’m probably hitting all the stages of grief at once and it’s
overwhelming for a person’s psyche.
People try to give comfort and some struggle and end up
saying things that make the sting of losing Tiggy worse. The best thing said thus far was probably
from my friend, Nancy. She recently went
through this same thing and after saying she was sorry, she was honest and said,
“I don’t know what to say.” Because
often you don’t know what to say and it feels like you have to say something. But, being honest and telling someone you
don’t know what to say to help them feel better about a shitty situation is the
best thing you can do for them.
As Tiggy got older these past few years, I used to tell him that
he needed to find the fountain of youth so he could live forever. Tiggy has taken a piece of my heart and soul
with him and I hope he knows how much I love and miss him. I’m not sure where we go when we die, but I
hope he’s happy and out of pain and I hope he knows just how much he touched
our family when he was with us these past 17 years. I hope to see you again on the flip side,
Wooty.
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