From commentor Neil in Rochester, MN:
I had my 17 1/2-year-old kitty put down today. I’m just numb right now, which allows me to even do this. But I must thank the commenters who shared with me last night.
I’ve always been a cat person. I certainly like dogs, but cats, with their character and presence (I call it “cattitude” and “catmosphere”) are just more my speed.
Growing up in the 70s my family had a couple of cats. And, like most cats of the time, they were outdoor kitties, and they lived hard and died young. I loved those two cats, but I’ve since concluded that it’s different when you’re a kid. Once you grow up and actually have to actively care for and be responsible for an animal, the love goes up another level.
I went to college (intermittently) and business school (indifferently), and joined the working poor and moved around through the years. I wanted to get a cat for myself, but it was more than a decade post-high school before I felt I was in a living arrangement suited for one. Finally, in the spring of 1994, I was ready. I’d just moved into a nice, old, very cat-friendly apartment complex. My roommate at the time was good with it. And, as it happened, my workplace was not 20 feet from an animal shelter. You could literally walk out the front door, turn left and be inside after about 15 steps. So one day I did that.
I think we’ve actually come quite a ways, even in the past 15-20 years, as far as how we treat animals and what we know (science-wise) about caring for them. (Good to know that America has progressed in at least this one area.) I mention this because this shelter I visited, I have no idea if it was a no-kill shelter. I’m not sure no-kill shelters even existed in any significant number back then. So I just told myself that I was about to see a bunch of really cute kitties, most of which wouldn’t make it out of there. But mine would.
All the cats were sufficiently nice, and they generally displayed that survival reflex that makes them particularly adorable in such sad circumstances. I wanted to take them all, but I was only getting one, and there really wasn’t anything that made me want to take one over the others. I looked closely at one or two, but I still wasn’t certain.
Finally, I noticed the one cat who wasn’t making himself adorable. He just kept to himself in the back of his cage, uncertain, maybe even a bit fearful of getting noticed. He may well have been a feral someone picked up. Still he was tabby-ish, and mostly dark. I’d heard people gravitate towards lighter-colored cats. With his appearance and timid demeanor, I suddenly saw myself as this cat’s one chance to ever leave that shelter. So that’s how “this cat” became Nash, my kitty for 17 1/2 years.
I could tell you 100 things about Nash, but I’ve taken enough of your time. I’ll just say that for most of his life, it was just him and me. And yet, when others met him, how ever briefly, they genuinely felt affection for him. It was easy to like Nash. Easier to love him. He was just the best cat ever.
Anyway I got through today, in large part due to the Balloon-Juicers who responded to my post on the night of Aug. 25. I read them all, and I’m truly grateful to everyone who commented. And for those of you who’ve also lost a pet, I’m truly sorry for your loss.
One thing I didn’t expect today: Prior to the procedure, I off-handedly asked the vet how often they do euthanizations. She got this almost queasy look in her eyes and told me, “I don’t keep count of them.” Most of you are probably less clueless than me, but please remember that this sort of thing is hard on your veterinarian, too. Be sure to thank yours for being there for you.
Something I regret is that I let my financial issues prevent me from ever splurging for a nice digital camera. I could have taken so many cool photos of Nash, in his various states of rest and sleep. They’re all forever in my head of course, but it’d be nice to e-mail them to the world. However, several summers ago, I dug out my old manual focus Nikon and, on a couple of different days, shot a roll of candids while Nash went about his business outside of my upstairs apartment. Business that included sun-bathing, rodent-hunting and eating an annoying amount of grass. So, the accompanying image was scanned from a physical photo. I don’t expect it’s the greatest resolution. But that was my Nash in ’03. In his prime.
Again, thank you to the commenters who were there for me. I’m not sure how I’ll ever get over Nash, but your words did help more than you know. Please hug your pets for me.
Raven (formerly stuckinred)
Sorry Neil, sorry.
Ozymandias, King of Ants
I’m so sorry for your loss. Nash sounds like a wonderful friend.
Neil, I’m so sorry. I had a cat like that, too: one of the few standoffish cats in a no-kill shelter. But he blossomed once he was in a home for one day. Spitfire loved everybody, cat or human, and was the best cat ever.
NY Times, FYI:
So all those Times links are FREE this weekend! While we still have power, anyway …
By the way, is the Balloon Juice server colo’d outside of the storm’s path, or should we expect BJ to suffer hurricane-related disruptions too?
Neil, I’m so sorry. Nash sounds like a great friend and he was certainly a handsome fellow.
When beloved kitties leave us, I always have this image of them — fully restored to youthful vigor and health — lapping the cream from the Milky Way before they scamper off to torment Sirius the Dog Star.
Less Popular Tim
That’s a great picture. It looks like Nash had a lot of personality.
Neil, I hope all loving cat people are able to have a Nash share a life with them. I have been and it is wonderful.
There will be extra cuddles in my household today as I celebrate Nash’s life and time with you.
Condolences on your loss, Neil.
So sorry for your loss, Neil. I know how hard it is to let them go, but it is the last, best thing you can do for them.
Beautifully written tribute, Neil. My condolences to you.
Neil, I’m glad you reached out that night about Nash. Since then I’ve been wondering how you’ve been doing. So very sorry that you had to let him go; he was obviously a special guy and a great companion.
I will definitely be lavishing some extra love to my Suze-cat today.
Neil, I’m so sorry. Nash sounds like the very best kind of buddy. RIP, Nash.
Neil I’m so sorry for your loss. When it’s time, I hope you bring home another critter because it sounds like you have a lot of love to give another pet. What I have experienced with the loss of an animal is the pain is replaced with smiles when I think of his silly antics. It takes time.
When beloved kitties leave us, I always have this image of them—fully restored to youthful vigor and health—lapping the cream from the Milky Way before they scamper off to torment Sirius the Dog Star.
Irene hasn’t even hit land yet and there’s already about 100,000 people without power across SC, NC, and VA, according to Accuweather.
FYI: NYC Office of Emergency Management Twitter link.
For NYC emergency updates. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only New Yorker here.
So sorry for your loss. Nash sounded fabulous.
1) In the edit box, highlight the text you want to blockquote.
2) Right above the edit box, press the button labelled: b-quote.
That’s it. Easy-peasy.
@JGabriel: Ah, thanks, I thought I had to click b-quote at both ends of the text. Clearly it’s time for coffee!
@LoudounLib: That can work too, but then you have to manually track the open & close tags, which can lead to errors — as you’ve already noticed. Easier to just highlight the text so you don’t have to worry about it.
I’m so very sorry Neil. They are such special friends and it’s so hard to lose them. Take good care.
Very sorry you’ve lost your companion.
I’m sorry for your loss, Neil. I have three cats of my own and they are the lights of my life. Let yourself grieve for your loss and remember Nash and what you both did for one another. He’s in kitty heaven now with tons of sunshine, good food, good health, and lots of love.
I am so sorry, Neil.
So sorry to hear you lost your best friend. If it’s any consolation, remember that he was always grateful to you for giving him the best life he could have.
I’m very sorry for your loss, Neil. Seventeen-and-a-half + years is a full life for a cat, but that means you’ve got a huge hole in your life right now. When the pain eases, there is undoubtedly another friend out there who needs your love and attention. Good luck to you.
I think “catmosphere” is one of the things I most like about cats. It especially applies to our older cat, who is very much a quiet presence around the house. Indoors or outdoors, no day goes by when I don’t get that feeling of being watched and, looking up, realize that she is lurking nearby, keeping an eye on me.
I’m so sorry that Nash won’t be the quiet presence in your home anymore.
@JGabriel: Hang in there.
It does seem to m that this storm will be known more as a terrible inconvenience (with some localized horrible shit) than being a scaled-up disaster
Wonderfully written, Neil. My condolences to you on the loss of a great friend and companion.
As others have stated -make it sooner rather than later to find another needy cat.
I am so so sorry for your loss. I used to run a rescue and when we shut down, kept the remaining eleven. I’ve lost two since then and it was incredibly hard. I couldn’t even talk about it for weeks and even now, it’s very hard.
All I can say is that you gave him a life, that without you, he would not have had. You lifted him up and out of a situation that might very well have cost him his life.
He was your friend. So mourn, cry and remember.
RIP Nash. You were loved.
So sorry Neil. What you wrote was a beautiful tribute.
A Mom Anon
That was a wonderful,if sad post. I am so sorry for your loss Neil. It sounds like Nash found himself a wonderful friend. And vice versa.
I’m sure for your loss, Neil, but I’m happy that both you and Nash were able to share parts of your life together.
duh…sorry for your loss.
Forgot to add that was a touching tribute to your buddy Nash as well.
My condolences for the loss of your buddy. And what a great name for a kitty.
Sorry Neil, always hard to lose an old and trusted friend.
Meanwhile, all you east-coasters keep your heads down and your feet dry.
Neil, I’m so sorry for your loss.
We had to let go of one of our cats (15.5 years old) this past March. We still get a little weepy but our other cats help us get through.
Hang in there – it will never really go away but the remembering begins to be less painful and more joyful over the times you had together.
Neil, what a lovely tribute to your friend, Nash. He is a beautiful boy, and thank you for giving him a full, rich life. My deepest condolences on your loss, and may Nash peek in on you from time to time just to comfort you.
Sorry for your loss, Neil. Keep the memories fresh, and, although you won’t want to do this or even think about it for awhile, get yourself to a shelter to find another companion.
ETA: Rereading this, it sounds bossy. Not my intent at all.
Sorry for your loss, Neil. I’ve just given Quinn, who’s keeping my toes warm, a scritch behind the ears.
Neil,thank you for sharing Nash’s story. He’s a lovely guy and it’s wonderful you had each other for so long. I’m so very sorry for your loss. Will keep you in my thoughts.
You have a lot of people weeping now in solidarity with you and for your love of Nash. The way you write of him perfectly evokes the love we animal protectors feel. They need us and we need them.
I’d like to thank Anne Laurie for these posts…they let us share both the joy of the beasties who have been rescued and the inevitable, eventual loss of these same beasties. May we all keep caring…
I am so sorry, because yes, the Animals in our lives help keep us human, don’t you think? We’ve had cats, dogs, hedgehogs, ducks, geese, a goat, and many many ferrets. Every good-bye is wrenching and wretched.
Our surprise soul-mate here was a wolf-cross dog, the first in our cat-fascinated household to tie our heart strings in knots. He lived to be almost 18 before we said good-bye and no dog will ever be his equal. That was ten years ago, and he is still missed!
So yes, holes in hearts…
@Neil in Rochester, MN – 17 1/2? Oh you poor lost soul!
When my Farva vanished last year this thought gave me solace in my dark time:
There’s millions of feral, abused, and neglected cats out there that live and die unnoticed and uncared for. But I made a difference. I took a cat that was destined to have a short unloved life and I raised him with love and affection. In a world of pain I created this one intensely bright spot of peace and empathy for a random cat and he flourished and loved me back. He never wanted. He never went hungry. I gave him the best life that a cat could want and I am proud of that. I proud that, for at least one small soul, I erased the terror and uncertainty of life on the streets and replaced them with a spot of warm afternoon sunshine on the floor and some dangly pieces of string.
Both you and I have been blessed, Neil. It’s now up to us to carry that love and empathy to other cats – and people, too, of course!
Oh, Nash sure was a handsome boy. I read these posts but rarely comment because I usually can’t think of anything to say that’s a fitting response to these lovely, sad tributes to furry family members. I’m so, so sorry for your loss.
I lost the last of my brood in late June and my household has been catless for the first time in about 36 years. I’ve only recently started feeling ready to start a new feline family and I’m sitting here thinking that Nash’s story has put me over the edge. So as soon as I get back from vacation after Labor Day, I’m off to the shelter.
Neil, I am so sorry for the loss of your friend.
Neil, this brought tears to my eyes. Both of you were lucky in each other. Godspeed Nash.
West of the Cascades
I’m so sorry for your loss. Nash was a lucky cat and it sounds like he had a long and very good life. My cat Margie is batting a fur mouse around right now, and I will give her a big hug as soon as I finish typing this. Thank you for sharing Nash’s story with us.
I’m so glad you found the strength to keep your promise to Nash, Neil. My 18 year old Siamese is on my lap right now. His vet has told me that he doesn’t have a lot of time left. Maybe a few weeks, maybe a few months. So I’m doing my best to live in the moment and I’m counting on him (and his wonderful vet) to tell me when it’s time to keep mine. Anyway, thank you for doing the right thing and my deepest sympathy for your loss.
What a handsome kitty!
Nash was fortunate to have a human who loved him so.
And he knew it–the look in his eyes says “That’s MY human”.
a hip hop artist from Idaho (fka Bella Q)
Neil, I am so sorry for your loss. You saved a wonderful cat who was lucky he found you. Thank you for sharing him with us through that lovely tribute you wrote. They leave such big paw prints on our hearts.
@Sam Houston: I think that is a great way to look at it.
Those are exactly my feelings, Sam Houston. Sorry, Neil, for your loss of such a beautiful cat. He must have loved you very much.
Your love is so palpable, Neil, it reaches through the pixels and touches us all. May you feel all the hugs in return.
Nash is a splendid kitty, it is clear. His love and your joy about him will last forever. But what you say is true, having pics is good. Even just one. You are wise to remind folks, I found out the same hard way how important pics are. I have one treasured vid I just took on a whim. So I’ll join your adviso:
If you have an iPhone – or any vid phone – go vid your pet now. You will be grateful forever that you did.
I am so sorry for your loss. Echoing others who have already said this, your heartfelt and well written tribute was so moving. Beautiful photo of a gorgeous cat, he looks a lot like my Boss Kitteh.
Whatever the difference is between us and other animals, it’s not in our capacity to bond with another, or to love them. When we lose them, it’s not like losing family; it is losing family. It was my own Bianca, not I, who decided one day that she would be my cat and chose to follow me home. And here she’s been ever since.
I just hugged and kissed Bianca like you suggested. She nipped me, like she does sometimes does when she figures I’m still not paying her enough attention. I know that means she really loves me.
Neil, I am so sorry. I have been thinking about you and Nash since thursday.
Nash was such a beautiful boy. Someone mentioned the other day that they lit a candle for their kitty every day for a year after they lost him. I thought that was lovely.
I found this quote to be incredibly comforting after I lost my sweet kitty. I hope that maybe it will help you, too.
Aw Neil, a tough day indeed. Your sadness and loss is shared.
May you quickly find the “I Celebrate My Nash” groove.
And, where ever you are, Thank You Nash for 17 and half years. Well done kitty.
Neil, hugs to you.
Your Nash looked very much like my Nico, who I lost in ’07. I called her the best cat ever, too. I miss her a lot, but now I’m able to think of her happily instead of just being heartbroken that she’s gone. Maybe, on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge, they’re playing together. :)
I wish every cat had a person like you.
Those were lovely words that makes me miss Nash and I never me him.
Nash sounds like a wonderful cat and I grieve with you at your loss.
Your Nash is magnificent. My heart is with you.
I know how you must be feeling right now, and I wish the best for you. I know for me it helped to think about and write down all the things I could remember about my cat, which you’ve done beautifully here. Take care.
I’m sorry Neil. My wife and I also had to put down a wonderful cat this summer, so I have some idea what you’re feeling.
Neil, what a lovely tribute for such a handsome boy. I am so sorry for your loss.
I am very, very sorry for your loss. I am sure you gave him a loving, happy home and made his life so much better…
Sorry for your loss, Neil. Nash looks like he was a great kitty.
Email me at my username + Gmail if you want to grab a beer, or a bite to eat…my treat.
My condolences to you Neill. I lost my 18 1/2 year old Bill last Sept and I truly know how you feel. She will always live in your heart… no love no positive energy, is ever lost from the universe they say.
Neil, the joy that Nash brought you will live on in your heart.
IMO, the last, greatest thing you can do for him is rescue another cat.
My current cat, Our Gracie, will never replace my Alice Springs, just as Alice didn’t replace Genta, but they are all very special and it is a privilege to have them grace my life for the time they are with me.
Big big hugs.
* hug Neil * pat on back *
I also do gender-neutral bear hugs if you are into that.
@Amir Khalid: My Boss kitteh is a biter too. I have convinced myself that they are love bites.
I know I won’t be able to stand reading the whole piece, not with a cat of slightly younger age who’s been at the vet a lot over the past two years, but I wanted to say, Fare thee well, Nash, and it’s a sad sad thing, Neil, that alas exceeds verbal consolation.
We put down a beloved cat(necco) a few months ago. It is heartrending and I feel for you, Neil. While we were trying to decide whether & when re: necco, a very young & beautiful stray showed up in our garden. The stray cuddled with necco until we decided it was time to put him down. The stray is now known as Handsome, little kitty, or big little kitty. He loves his two humans and we love him. We regard him as a miracle.
Sarah in Brooklyn
I’m so sorry to hear about Nash. It’s so hard to let go of such a fine animal. I hope you’ll find some comfort in knowing how many of us have been through it and feel for you.
Kind and peaceful blessings to you and Nash’s spirit. And thank you for sharing such a beautiful tribute.
So sorry for your loss of such a great ccat. And he sure was a handsome kitty!
I’m so sorry about Nash. He was a handsome cat. It’s such a painful decision to have to make. My dear Mac, also a tabby, was diagnosed with cancer a week ago and only has two to four months left. I’m giving him as many treats and cuddles as I can, but I do need to take more pictures. Thanks for the reminder.
My condolences, Neil, Nash was a lovely boy and one of the great wonders in life, a companion through thick and thin. After losing Smudge this year after 18 years, I wasn’t really sure about another kitty, but as I watch Takkun and Kage slap each other silly in a puddle of early morning sunlight by the door, I know that if there’s one good thing we can all do, it’s give homes and love to our pets for as long as Deity allows. My heart goes out to you.
I’m so sorry for your loss. Nash sounds like a great friend and you were both lucky to have each other.
I was under the weather this morning, slept in, which caused the cats to all jump on the bed and yowl at me their displeasure of a late breakfast. I got up, grumpy and grumbled as I fed them. Then I read your post. They all got an extra spoon of tuna after that.
Hugs my friend.
Kathy in St. Louis
Beautiful quote, pertaining to a beloved animal or a friend.
Oh, Nash, it is a truly wonderful tribute to a wonderful cat and to you. Thanks so much.
I can’t think of a better use of my time than hearing 100 things about Nash. Thank you for what you did tell us about you and Nash and his precious life, and giving us his picture to remember him by.
There’s a saying that we have the life we are living, but we also have another life as long as someone remembers us — and there are a lot of people now, thanks to you, who are going to be remembering Nash for a good long time. And I think that it all goes beyond that. The spirit of a good cat like Nash is going to go on forever.
RIP, Nash, and hugs to you, Neil.
Seconded! Neil, if you can bear to write them, I would love to read them.
Collecting all my photos in one place and selecting my favorites really helped me through that first day or two. Maybe writing a list like this could do that for you, and it would add to your lovely testament to Nash.
Edit: I’ll bet there are a ton of people who could use some smiles, and some tears, on this weekend in particular.
I am so sorry for your loss. I hope you can find comfort in knowing that you did right by Nash from the beginning at the shelter to the difficult but loving and compassionate end.
To all who loved and lost (or will soon lose) a pet, my condolences. I have been there, too.
You gave Nash love & family for over 15 years (not sure how old he was when you adopted him)! He was loved an well cared for and you obviously derived a ton of love and pleasure from him. Please try to focus on that, when you can. I’m so sorry for your loss but, when you’re ready, there’s an opportunity for you to do something good for another pet again :)
You gave Nash a great life!
comrade scott's agenda of rage
That’s one of the best things written about adopting strays ever.
Neil, I feel for you. Most likely on Monday, our male tabby, Mouser, who’s 18 and also a wild cat originally, will go to The Bridge. I’ll make sure he says hi to Nash for you.
I don’t know if we ever do get over the loss of a pet, a four-footed friend. But Nash was loved. I do recommend giving another cat a home, though. Quickly. The silence after a passing can be fierce.
I still call out for Merlyn. And Meagan. And Cimmaron. And Calabash. The cats-in-residence just look at me like I’m nuts or something. Then demand a plate of food.
Their cattitude helps me grieve by laughing.
I’m sorry for your loss, but glad that you had a wonderful cat friend. Also, never doubt that you did the right thing, even when it’s hard.
If you can bear to write your hundred things, I too would like to read them. For inspiration, perhaps, here is the list of things I wrote about why I would miss my Nero, after I had him put down last year. Good luck, and be well.
This thread is the perfect example of why this blog is the best blog ever. Just the fact that we can grieve together over the loss of a cherished pet and that Neil feels free enough to write about his loss shows the humanity that is always so evident here.
Thank you for sharing your grief Neil. It’s obvious from his picture that Nash was a well-loved cat and I appreciate you getting back to us.
There are days when I feel very lucky I found this blog and today is one of those days.
@Interrobang: Why you miss your Nero was beautiful. I laughed and I cried. If Neil writes one for Nash, I really hope he shares it with us.
That’s a beautiful tribute you’ve written to your beloved cat. My own Best Cat Ever had to be put down fifteen years ago and I can still get teary-eyed thinking about him. Someone my now-ex worked with adopted a pregnant stray and we took one of the kittens. He was smart, funny and independent. My kids grew up with him. I’ve had other cats since and have a nice pair now, but we always agree that he was the best.
Make sure you keep a hard copy of your tribute to Nash as a memorial.
Nash looks like a male version of Molly, who was put down last year at the age of 17+, due to congestive heart failure. She was elderly when I married a lady with two Persians. She was always my cat, insisted that my lap was where she spent her evenings if I was sitting, and despised the other two felines. But she was the undisputed ruler of the house, even when we added a maltese – bichon dog to the mix. I miss her. My condolences.
I am sorry for your loss of Nash. Makes me think of our 18 year old cat, Clam (aka happy as a Clam), whom we lost one year ago. She also died of congestive heart failure. I miss her a lot and I completely empathize with you. A bruised kitten whom we found on the Delaware-Raritan Canal. She became a queen among cats, our once in a lifetime pet.
It’s been less than a year since I brought my Otis home and it’s already impossible for me to imagine life without him. These little critters do have a way of colonizing the heart.
My deepest condolences to you, Neil.
It’s me. Thanks for reading Nash’s story. At the risk of spamming up the comments, I’m reposting this response here, just in case someone returns to this thread. (I also left it in the Saturday night open thread.) Here goes:
Since a couple of you were wondering what else I could tell you about Nash, there’s this story:
Nash was never purely an outdoor cat. For instance, when the temp dipped below 50 (the norm for about half the year here in Minnesota), he was perfectly content to stay inside. Still, the duplex we shared has a wonderful garden area, and for many years no AC. So in the spring and summer, it seemed kind of cruel to keep him in.
It helped that Nash had a healthy fear of cars, so I knew he’d never venture out to the front of the house, which faces a busy street. The other thing I tried to do was make sure he was inside by my bedtime. Usually he stayed close by, so I could go round him up if necessary, but he did wander some, leading to a handful of all-nighters.
So in early October of ’98, when he didn’t come back one night, I was more annoyed than worried. But when he wasn’t there in the morning, I knew something was wrong.
I looked around and posted some signs, but there was no trace of him. I knew cats sometimes go missing and eventually return. So I had hope. But as the days passed, my hopes diminished and my dread grew.
This went on for exactly two weeks and two days. I was about at the point where I didn’t expect to see him again. Late that night I’m vegging in front of the TV (no home Internet for me back then), thinking I should have gone to bed about half an hour earlier. Then I hear this soft thud at the door.
Most nights I’d ignore that innocuous sound. It could have been the wind or squirrels on the roof or something. But, I thought, just maybe…
Yep. I opened the door, and there was Nash. He wasn’t injured, but he was filthy and clearly had had little or nothing to eat. Our reunion was a blur of me hugging/cleaning him off with damp paper towels as he buried his face in a mound of kitty food.
I have no idea what happened over those two weeks and two days. My only guess is that Nash went in someone’s garage (lured there by an evil mouse), hid when people appeared and got trapped while said people went out of town.
Over the years Nash had a couple other outdoor incidents — and numerous confrontations with neighbor cats — but nothing really serious. Then, about 4-5 years ago, he suddenly lost all interest in going out. His favorite spot became the cable modem next to my computer. If he wasn’t dozing on that heat source, he could turn right to get some sun and watch the birds and squirrels outside the window. Or he could turn left to get in my face and demand food and/or attention. So I guess I understand the attractions of my computer table for him. I’d tell people he retired to there.
This hasn’t been a good day. Every corner I turn in this house I know I won’t see my cat, but I keep feeling like he should be here. Again though, I feel a bit better for sharing this, and I’m eternally grateful for all your supportive comments.
@Neil T.: You are a braver man than me. I had one harrowing outdoor-lost-for-2-nights ordeal, and then it was indoor-cat-time or me.
These once in a lifetime kitties break our hearts when they leave, but we are so lucky to have had them.
Balloon Juice helped many times in those first couple of months when the loss I was feeling was overwhelming and I thought it would never get better. I’m so glad Nash has an entire thread all to himself. What a lovely memorial for Nash, I am going to bookmark it.
@WaterGirl: I thought about those two weeks a lot toward the end. I wonder if that experience made it harder to let him go for good. I’d already lost Nash once.
If you happen to see this and would care to chat sometime, I’m njt64 at yahoo dot com…
@Neil T.: I’m so sorry for your loss.
As it happens, one of my two indoors cats got out a couple of days ago, and I’m sitting here anxiously hoping to hear her at the door any moment – so your story of those two weeks is particularly heavy. I saw her in the beam of my flashlight yesterday night, but she bolted off around the house into the dark. Being convinced she’s 100 yards or less away right this second helps a bit.
Paul in KY
Very sorry Neil. He was a handsome cat. Hope you get a new kitteh soon to start loving on.
@Neil T.: Just dropped you a line. Didn’t say much because my email provider is having some issues this week and I wasn’t sure you would even get my message. Let me know if it arrives.