I know I haven't been the most active recently. Between a stressy home life and a sick cat, I've found little time for a creative mood. My muse has pretty much dried up with the summer. As someone who lives in the midlands, in England, I (like 75% of other midlanders) suffer from low vitamin D, which causes my mood to drop. Most of us have SADs around here because there is so little sun. Being a gamer doesn't really help. Us basement dwellers don't see the sun all too often.
I'm stalling. I'm sorry. The whole purpose of this journal was to talk about something specific and I've completely beat around the bush. I don't suppose most of you will feel much about this other than sympathy, because well... he wasn't your cat and I wouldn't expect you to, but... Theo touched many lives. Here on deviantART he is known by hundreds of people who all came together and helped cover the costs of his very expensive hospital stay two years ago.
Theo was hit by a car again earlier this month. His jaw was broken, and it was wired back together. He looked like he was going to make a recovery. Feeding him with a syringe wasn't working, so we took him back to the vet so they could fit a feeding tube, which was less than optimal but an unfortunate necessity. Unfortunately, Theo didn't make it through the operation. His heart gave up shortly after the operation was successful. He didn't come to. His heart slowed, and the vets managed to stabilise him, but then his heart stopped and they were unable to restart it. That was on Friday. I have spent every day since crying.
I want it to be known that the moments before he was put under the anaesthetic were filled with his purrs, and his final moments were spent still under the anaesthetic. His passing was painless and peaceful. This is better. You see, because Theo was an FIV+ cat, his healing was greatly hindered, and his jaw wasn't healing properly. This means that he was likely going to have to be put down. I'm not sure I could have made that decision, and so I'm glad I didn't have to.
However, I want to make one thing very clear. I don't want anyone to tell me that he is in a better place. While I appreciate some of my watchers may be religious or spiritual, I am not. There was no better place for that cat than in my arms. That's where he was happiest. If heaven exists, then the thought of him alone up there without me is too painful for me to think about. He was taken away from his mother too early, and he formed a surrogate bond with me. He was always very miserable when I was not around. I can't bear to think of him suffering like that now. Secondly, Theo was not living in pain. He was not suffering. He wasn't even aware of his FIV, as we managed the condition very well. He is not 'no longer suffering', or 'no longer in pain'. He was never in pain, and he was never suffering. Even in his last conscious moments, he purred, and nuzzled, and snuggled, and kissed. He was a bright and happy cat, and the lives of my family members are worse without him.
The day before I acquired Theo, I was raped by a college friend. It was one of the worst days of my life and I swore it would be the last. You see, that night, the family cat died in an incredibly painful, and horrific way. He'd had a cancerous tumour that he'd managed to hide for years, and when the other cat died the previous year, he began to show signs of being unwell. It was too late to do anything. And on that horrible night, he began to die. I couldn't even be with him because I was in some dark, grimy hospital room with a very unsympathetic lady who was invading my body in ways I don't like to recall. We knew that if we tried to rush the cat to the vet, he would die and he would have spent his last few moments in a state of panic and stress. All we could do was make sure he was as comfortable as possible, and surrounded by the ones he loved.
The next day, we saw an advert of kittens going free to a good home. I don't know why I even suggested it. I just needed something good for my family, because I wasn't going to be around for them. However, when those kittens arrived, Theo came strutting out of the carrier, and jumped up onto my lap. He looked at me with these eyes, and this look that he kept until his final day. The look of absolute, unwavering trust and unconditional love, and I have NEVER seen that look in any other eyes. Not when they're looking at me. For someone who felt unlovable, spend, and used, this was my saviour. He saved my life, and he did so every day. I forgot about being raped. I buried it under his fur.
He knew when I was sad, and he would come and find me. He would wait for me to come home from wherever, and he would bound down the road towards me. He slept in my bed, clawing at my back because I wasn't giving him as much attention as he wanted. He was my soulmate and the love of my life, and I knew it would come to an end eventually, but I wasn't expecting minor surgery to do it. I was so sure he was coming home that evening. I promised him.
He was the most trusting cat I ever met, and he acted more like a loyal dog than a typical cat at times, but more than that, he was like a son to me. I fed him, a dressed all his wounds and patched him up, I rocked him to sleep in my arms with lullabies, and I tucked him into bed every night. He's the only creature to ever bring out the maternal side of me, and he very definitely was my
Theo and no one else's. I love him. I miss him, and I don't think that's a pain that will ever go away, as others with cats, and dogs, and other animal companions, can surely agree.
However, with Theo gone, all of the horrors that have happened over the past five and a half years - and there have been a lot - have come falling out from beneath the fur I hid it within.
I can't deal with all of these things at once.