It is now one week since I wrote my distraught, distressed blog about losing my friend, my Big Cat. I will not apologise, but this week has been so hard, and I would like you to stay and hear what I have to say in my Part 2!

If you have ever lost someone or something, you know that any grief is so painfully real, regardless of its origin. The love of, and attachment to, an animal friend can equal that of human relationships. I do not apologise for the emotion felt, as it truly was such a difficult blog to write. I know that immeasurable tears have flown, ran, poured out of me this past week as I have dealt with the demise of my cat. Many readers empathised with me and their own tears shed, (with numerous comments telling me so) and I sincerely thank you for that.

Believe me, grief for ‘just a cat ‘, my cat, has been and is still so real. Old habits still make me think I hear his meow at the door, or I step back when I drop a tasty morsel on the floor, waiting for him to come to me. I still listen for his soft patter on the floorboards and my feet still go around the place that his food dish used to be. I am truly stunned at how much I miss him and even though we still have our other animals, how empty the house feels for me, without his soft round self, asleep on my bed or the couch. Sometimes, through my tears, I would feel I am sounding stupid, particularly as I write these two blogs in crying for ‘just a cat”, reflecting I should not be grieving so much. I know my head says… “Okay. Enough, shake it off, people don’t want to hear about how your cat has just died, It is just a cat.”

However, I discern that anyone who actually says to me “it is just a cat or a dog” needs to be pushed out the door in a hard shove headfirst and I would be more than happy to do it. Because even though to others, not quite understanding, Big Cat was not ‘just a cat,’. The pain I have felt with losing him is devastating, it cuts to the quick of my heart, even though I knew it was the right thing to do! You read my previous blog, My heart was broken, and I have sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.

Of course, Monday bought the reality of returning to work.

This involved being on the front-line desk for 10 plus hours each day as staff were away. It meant meeting, greeting, dealing with patients, doctors, and inquiries over the phone, in person and online, always smiling, always cheery, though my eyes were blurry, their black bags underneath not properly concealed by makeup, but rather the emphasis transpiring into red rimmed and strained eyes, both from lack of sleep and my grief driven emotions. No, you do not have much of a chance to grieve in private in a professional business space and life simply carried on. How do you cope? You simply do. You have to. So, I chatted, I smiled, I managed.

I think on that first workday after his death, I was on automatic mode. I felt so distorted though, as sleep had been evading me and unusual nightmares occurring about my cat, yes, all-natural parts of grief but I had to keep going.  Interesting, after my first husband died almost 16 years ago, I did exactly the same thing, going back to work not long after his death. I could not sit around and weep. Being the sole financial provider due to his demise I had to get back to work and start functioning again. Of course, my cat was not my husband, but this week, I did exactly the same thing after his death. I went back to work as once again, I had no choice.

Amidst the “normality” of my work life on that first day, towards the end of my busy morning, a close friend of mine came to the practice with a single orchid. She walked in the medical practice door, holding this symbolic flower, tears in her own eyes and embraced me with a hug. It was beautiful. With her arms around me, she unknowingly freed a poignant release from within me trying to be a master of disguise in presenting a normal face to the reality of my day. With this gesture of a single flower and her own tears, she undid that mask and I cried. It did not matter there were people there, I needed to cry. It was an emancipation and I thanked her for it.

Of course, I did not automatically recover after that beautiful encounter, with life all of a sudden miraculously returning to normal. Tears as you would imagine, continued to flow throughout the week through various engagements as I worked professionally.

Like sharing with a colleague/friend who had gone through the deep emotional loss of her own cat just 12 months ago, my eyes brimming in front of her, not being able to speak. Like, having my sister come to the practice with flowers, dragging me out for a cup of coffee, something that does not normally happen due to both our work and time commitments. Like receiving spontaneous hugs from my husband who understood my feelings, receiving beautiful comments from my friends on FB, my blog, friends at church, all contributed to me dealing with my grief in losing my best long time animal friend. You know what was funny, I would be fine and then the tears would simply fall because grief is nonlinear. It comes in waves. A mixture of laughter and of tears. You can feel ok, feel quite normal and then you start to cry. Oh, believe me, I did!

I hated going home. I avoided it which sounds strange I know. But I knew it all related to the grief from my husband. My girlfriend in Sydney who has known me since we were both 17 told me that “my cats’ death and my grief was inextricably tied up with memories of my first husband … and the timing so close to his final illness with the anniversary of his passing, this next month to be particularly poignant …”. She was so right.

 Back then, after his death, I detested with a vengeance, going home to my ‘no husband ‘and empty house, knowing he was not there to greet me, or to bring me a glass of red wine to sit and chat about our days. The same thing occurred last week. Even though we have other animals from my present, there, I once again loathed coming home to my house, to not see my old cat circling, or to see him sitting on the couch. I still looked for him on the couch even though my head knew he was not! I missed his physical presence so much.

Part of grief is having to deal at that painful time of his demise, of being asked about what my plans for Big Cat were. Needless to say, at that moment in time, when you have to say goodbye to your special animal friend, it is not the best time to think calmly and rationally about all the options available and arrive at a well-thought-out decision! Big Cat meant so much to me and was a huge part of me. I just knew he had to come home again even though knowing, it would hit me hard passionately again to bring him home.

And one week later, Big Cat is now home again. Emotionally, I needed to bring him home. As stupid as that sounds, I wanted to have him here with me in my house.

When my first husband died his ashes were placed in a beautiful rose decorated box on top of my piano and I had placed a small photo on top of it. He sat there for many years. I needed him “nearby”. Silly I guess, but I used to sit and talk to him about my day. I would sit there on my piano stool and converse. I would talk about anything, about the kids, about work. Believe me, I could tell him so much about so little! We would have this long one-sided conversation where he did not interrupt me even once!

Big Cat is sitting there today. Once again, I need him “nearby.”

Yes, even though I was prepared for my furry best friend’s homecoming, I still sobbed dreadfully when we collected him. I could not stop the tears falling and my heartache escalated all over again as we placed ‘him’ lovingly on the piano, so beautifully presented, complete with his paw print on a most expressive card. No photo this time, but a candle with his name on it adorns the box. And yes, silly as it may sound, I talk to him too. He cannot answer or meow back to me either, but I still say good morning and good night….as I used to before. 

But , as you read this conclusion of my heartbreak loss and journey this week, I want to ask you to reflect on what I have written and to consider some thoughts.

When you have a friend, who is going through losing a special friend like I have, that even though you may not know the full story, or what that special friend meant, nor know of the attachment or symbolism of that animal, please do not ever think it is ‘just a cat’, or it is’ just a dog’. Remember that some angels don’t have wings, sometimes they have whiskers or fur. When you lose your friend, it not only means losing a pet, but also means being enveloped in the same grief felt of losing a friend or family member. The grief is exactly the same.

Don’t ever think you/ they, get over your /their grief. Remember that we don’t simply get through our grief and move on like the movies. Rather, as we grieve, we move through it. We never get over it or move on.  Even though we have been hurt, we do eventually find a way to get through it, because life goes on whether we want it to or not. Because, for no matter what kind of friend we have lost, be it animal or human, eventually, we do come out the other side. With time , however much we need to take,  we move through it.

But you never forget. You just place those memories of what you shared, somewhat raw at times, of what you had, and you hold them in a special place deep in your heart.

I will and have begun to move on through my grief and my loss My tears are drying even though my heartache is still there, so strong.  I have not cried as much, and my pain will ease I know over time and my life continues on.

My cat, Big Cat is no longer here physically, but now he is home with me again, in his special place, I feel ‘happier’. I know too, my life was fuller because of one special cat who filled a huge void and loved me unconditionally for almost 16 years.

Today, My Big Cat is now here in his resting place.

He is with me again.

And…..I am truly glad he is home.