Yesterday I said goodbye to a special friend.

He was a friend who was always there, non-judgemental, non-argumentative, someone who listened and heard and felt all my tears, my fears, and always my happy times. He was a friend who continually provided comfort and companionship no matter what time of day or night and even though he was pushed  away many times, he always came back.

I know that in general times, people can say “He was just a cat” but they do not know or understand about the grief and sadness that I feel knowing he is no longer here. The grief I feel in losing him is so intense.

I feel heartbroken. I simply cannot stop crying.

My Cat came into my life about a month or so after my first husband died. Almost 16 years ago, my daughter was in the local animal shelter and I received a call “there were these two beautiful, lonely little kittens that really just needed a home.” Of course, I thought about it, but not for long. In one way, it was my manner of saying ‘well you (my first husband) left me alone, now I will now have a cat’. Their names are actually Tipsy and Shadow but Big Cat and Little Cat somehow stuck due to the difference in size and they just stuck. So, home they came. Little did I know how that small straggly male tabby cat from the local shelter would impact my life!

Big Cat really took to me. You know when cats choose their masters, even though we ‘officially’ choose them. He became mine.

Most days, at home, when working in the office, the cat would lie still beside me. He sat beside me, slept beside me, and he was my cat. He was my good friend. He showed me his undying love and devotion by spending numerous hours lying around my workstation, or near me on the table, the floor, the chair in various positions collecting the many hours of sleep we would all like to have!

As a young cat, normally when Big Cat wanted attention, he would find a plastic bag to attack, or at other times he may attack the little cat! If I ignored that, he would find a peg and play with that item, chasing it up and down the hallway kicking it with his paw like a soccer ball. And then chasing it, picking it up in his mouth and starting the whole procedure again. It was so amusing to watch. Sometimes I am sure he thought he was a dog. He also chased his tail and when he caught it with his mouth it hurt him! I do not think he actually knew it was connected! Many hours were spent playing with him, watching him slide up and down our long hallway chasing a laser beam that he never once caught.

One of Big Cat’s favourite things to do was to sit next to me nearby the computer. When he had had enough sleep and wanted my attention, he would come right up to me and simply sit on the computer and meow in my face. Of course, the computer then most miraculously wrote words all by itself and there was a jumbled mess scrawled on the screen in front of me until that paw or tail moved position. Oh yes, occasionally I lost work as it had been deleted by a large cat paw or huge cat bottom resting on the keys!

When I continued to ignore his demand for affection and moved him off and away as I was busy working, he would quietly sneak over to the rug on the floor or the couch, and expertly dug in his sharp nails and commenced to knead. He knew this was one thing I could not stand, so I would have to move to him. He also tried to continuously jump onto my lap, but I kept putting my arm in front to keep him down. When he’s on my lap, I really couldn’t get anything done and it was quite hard to work! He wanted caressing and comfort, but I needed to work!

One day, after spending several comfortable hours relaxing on the desk beside me, he decided to try and jump on my chair. I continued to work on the day’s projects and ignore his cute, but unwanted interruptions. My work continued. His huge green eyes in his cute tabby cat face come up so close to mine, staring so intently into my presence. Unexpectedly he released a loud, long, mournful caterwaul meow. I looked at him questioning, wondering what was wrong and I instantly raised my arm to scratch his head. As soon as my arm was high enough, he immediately seized the opportunity to jump onto my lap and settled in with a satisfied purr. I laughed. He figured out exactly how to get what he wanted. My own cat had just outsmarted me. He wanted me to stop work. He had decided I had put too many hours into my vocation, in working and not enough time on the things that mattered! Him!

Big Cat was a sook and loved attention.

He always sat beside me on the lounge when I was relaxing and graced his presence nightly on my bed. His place in the bed initially was beside me, filling that gap there for a long while after my husband died and then years later in varied places, beside me, cuddled up next to me for my menopausal warmth, but most of the time at the end of the bed.

At night when it was getting late, he would come to me and sit before me, if I were in the lounge room, but always around 9:30pm, simply look at me and meow. It was his way of saying “It’s time for bed!”. Then when it was bedtime, he would be in any other room, but the nightly ritual began as soon as the light went off. I would hear the small patter, feel the slight weight of his paws with his light jump up on the bed; the kneading began in my back, then settled to my feet and then settled purrs of contentment. He slept there for most of his life until he could not jump up any more due to arthritis in his back feet.

The last month of his life, I suspected he was deaf, and so I would always face him and meow to him and he would always look at me, answer me back- sometimes with a silent meow, sometimes with the actual sound, but he knew I was talking to him. Even though he was stiff in his legs and in pain, he would still be there to greet me when I got home from work or wherever, usually circling for his dinner but always there to say hello. If he were not there by the door, I would find him on the couch or the sofa bed, where he spent the last month or so, not moving much from where I had left him.

I feel guilty because now in hindsight, I should have seen the signs when he could no longer jump on my bed, when he was walking wobbly and sideways. When some days he could not stand properly, then recover and move on. I did give him pentosane injections, for his arthritis, anti-inflammatories and got blood work done, but my guilt is not in the medical treatment, that was fine, but that I should have given him more love and attention when he was settled on the couch. My husband holding me now tightly in my tears, tells me that I always went to him each night and stroked him on the couch (as he kept trying to come onto the bed but knowing it would hurt him intensely when he jumped off). That the last few months, I cuddled him on the couch as our night-time ritual instead of the other way around. But now , obviously , I felt it was not enough.  Of course, the logical side of me says I did do that, but my pain is telling me I should have given him more time, more patting, more love and now it is too late and that is affecting me so much. Heart over Head!

I have to ask myself, why is my grief so huge. I did not feel like this when our dog Max died. Of course, I was upset and missed him greatly, but not with the intensity of what I feel now. To answer that, I guess because Big Cats death is connected to the passing of my first husband. Perhaps also reflective of the same time of year of those memories as well, the same time of year.

When my husband died this March coming, 16 years ago, at such a young age to malignant melanoma, Big Cat filled that gap for me. Having someone to unconditionally love me, to simply lay there, to look up at me with those huge green eyes, to be beside me when my grief at losing my husband overwhelmed me, Big Cat was simply there. Never asking questions, just seeing me, and hearing my distress, purring beside me, climbing in, and nestling beside me as I lay on the bed consumed in sorrow. Then as time went on, and I learned to live again, he simply became my cat, my companion, someone there beside me every day. No other reason. He was a cat, but he was my saving grace. He held such a huge place in my life.

And now he is gone.

 I could not stay to see his end, but I patted him and talked to him and even though he was profoundly deaf, he could see my lips moving and talking to him stroking his neck, his back, the place on his head where he loved to be scratched until his purring began in earnest…loving my touch. Then seeing him content, hearing him purring strongly, I then left him with Lauren our vet , who continued to pat him as I left her surgery in tears. I could not stay. I needed to remember him as he was purring and relaxed, knowing he was loved.

My head says it was the right decision. I did not want him to continue in pain because he was in such pain and I knew that keeping him alive was more for me and not for him.  But although the decision was right, it does not make it any easier for me to accept. Such a hard one to make even though you know it is “right”.

But my heart is breaking. My grief is so real. My tears are flowing. I loved him so much, even with all the cat vomit and cat fur! Small simply triggers start the tears, like seeing two cat plates on the bench, flinching when I see my scarf sitting on the couch where he sat and initially thinking it was him, buying cat food for the other cat knowing it is not for Big cat, like removing  the kitty litter away from the laundry  as he no longer needs it, not hearing his loud patter as he walked on the tiles, lying stretched out on the rug; not seeing the grandchildren stroke him and cuddle him every time they visited,  not being able to perform our night-time ritual , and the most awful and horrible aspect of walking in my back door , coming home , not seeing him there. It is all now gone. He is gone. Big Cat is not here. Never to talk to me in his own way. Knowing he will never be there again.

They say about having a broken heart, well right now, mine is broken, shattered, crushed and the pain is so intense. My pain in my heart is strong and I have done nothing but sob since I left him. Yes, I know I will eventually stop and I know I will get through this, I will go to work tomorrow and pretend that nothing has happened and look after the people in my work. But right now I have to cry. Right now, I have to sob those tears in grief for a close loving friend I have just lost. because my grief is so real. So intense, So painful. I am writing this in a blur. I cannot stop crying. I cant. It hurts too much. I want My Big Cat back.

But, I am so so so thankful, that I had him in my life for a very gratified long special 16 years. He helped me in so many unspoken ways. I shared with him. He shared with me. He was always there.

My Cat is now gone.

His name was Tipsy.

His name was Big Cat and he was my cat for almost 16 years.

Even though he was just a cat, He was My Cat.

Good bye my beautiful tabby cat.

I miss you so much.