As some of y’all know, we recently lost our elderly fur-kid, a lovely cat named Murphy. He was blond/orange/red-and-white long-hair king who had lived a long and happy life, at least until the cumulative effects of primary hyperthyroidism began to rack up.
I had the benefit of seeing the end coming, from miles away. In situations like these, there is often a pre-grieving process. When you know the end is coming and you’ll have to say goodbye, but the end isn’t here quite yet; Murphy was, after all, still purring and happily chattering with me up until his last weekend with us.
Of course, the benefits of foresight are bittersweet. They don’t lessen the pain; you just feel the pain sooner. I didn’t feel that I could legitimately begin processing the grief that I knew was coming, and yet I couldn’t help but start processing it.
Mr Kitty and I…
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