Of love... and parting

I’m standing in for Claire today. Not because I want to, but because she’s in some pain— the pain of loss. Her favorite cat, Daisy, just passed away after being ill for days with Feline Infectious Peritonitis. Daisy died in Claire’s arms, enveloped by her love, knowing that someone was there for her even at her last moments.

Claire wrote this to me just about two hours ago, a short while before Daisy passed. I won’t be able to put things better than Claire has so I’m taking the liberty of reproducing a part of her email. I know Claire won’t mind.

She is dying. But the strangest thing is she’s sleeping peacefully by my side. She’s not in a coma—she’s conscious, aware of me, and she purrs when I stroke her favorite places to be caressed. Very faintly, but it’s not an unconscious reflex. She makes it pretty clear what she likes and doesn’t. She’s breathing, albeit so slowly I can’t quite understand how it’s compatible with life. She seems completely peaceful so long as I’m right near her, body-to-body. If I make noise, shift too much, or get up, even to go to the bathroom, she becomes confused and agitated, which is pitiful, and tries to jump off the bed—I presume to hide. But if I calm her and hold her, she settles back to sleep right away. If I’m near her and quiet, she just seems—to me—to sleep peacefully. I’ve given her strong painkillers, which the vet allowed me to take home with me. I don’t think she could be in much pain, could she? An animal in pain will cry or hide; certainly, she wouldn’t be so calm—would she? 

Every time I give her the morphine I think, “She’s so frail. This dose will surely kill her—after I give it to her, she’ll probably take her last breath.” But to the contrary, after I give it to her, she settles in peacefully. 

I have no idea what to do. She’s not going to recover, obviously. The right thing would be to help her pass peacefully. But she’s conscious enough—and frightened enough by any noise or change—that I’m sure if a stranger came over to euthanize her, she would a) understand this, correctly, as a deadly threat; b) use the last of her strength to jump off the bed and, when I got up to answer the door, under it, where it’s almost impossible to get her out, and thus c) force me to drag her, terrified, out from under the bed to give her a peaceful death—which would thus not be peaceful; it would be ghastly beyond words. If she could just die this way, it would be a peaceful death—but how long is it going to take? And how much worse will it be toward the end? She’s slowing starving to death, and dying of thirst: Surely, soon, she will go into convulsions, or some kind of agony? 

Every muscle in my body is sore from the effort not to disturb or frighten her. I’m happy to do it, but could she go on like this for days? Is that biologically possible?

Just let people know that I’m not ignoring them on purpose, or uninterested; I’m just comforting a cat in her last days on this earth. If they understand that, they’ll forgive me, and if they don’t, they’re not really the right people for us to work with.

And then, an hour later, Claire wrote to me saying Daisy had moved on to a Heaven where she was a peace. She wrote:

Daisy just died, peacefully, in my arms. Her death was as beautiful and peaceful as any of us could hope. It comforts me greatly that she died as she lived, wanting to the very end to be in my arms. There was no horror. She cried out loud only once at the end. I stroked her and whispered to her that it was okay. Then she took three deep breaths—they must have been agonal breaths, so she must by then have been unconscious—and curved her spine; then she slipped away so peacefully I wasn’t sure she was gone, until I saw the small stain of blood-tinted fluid under her nose.

She looks entirely at peace. I am at peace, too. I am so glad I did not subject her to further trips to the vet, did not call over a stranger to euthanize her, and stayed with her to the last breath.

I don’t know what to add. I know everyone at CG, everyone who’s a reader, a listener and a fan, will join me and our team in praying for Daisy soul.

And praying for Claire so she can be strong in her love… and the parting… of the flesh, and not spirit… the love that will ever abide.