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Yesterday evening at 5:38pm Arwen breathed her last and her heartbeat stopped and as
Haley Burke said “her spirit tiptoed out of the room” at the Alford Animal Clinic.
I’d been dreading this day since last September when Dr. Burke told us her kidney bun and
creatinine values indicated she was in stage 4 kidney failure. It was agonizing to hear that
diagnosis but we all had to carry on with life as best we could. There is nothing to be done
with a diagnosis like that but try to modify her diet and encourage the intake of fluids. This
past winter she almost died. She stayed at the Veterinary Emergency Clinic for 36
hours. I was expecting to make a call Sunday morning and find out that she’d passed.
However, she continued to expend her “9-lives” and rebound back into our home.
She’d been on thyroid medicine for about 5 years now, and without that drug she would
have died years ago. A year or two after that she had a melanoma on her eye. Laser surgery
saved her life and her vision. Lots of "lives" expended.
Arwen walked, cuddled, slept, ate, and loved her life with us. Her desire for our company
increased as the years rolled by. When we returned from an out of town trip she glued her
self to our sides for days as she, in her own way, rejoiced at our return.
Arwen had a superpower. She could tell time. Or maybe she could mark time. Perhaps it was just
keeping time. At any rate, if you fed her a treat (which I used to do in the afternoons) at 4:30pm then
she would be at my feet the next day at precisely 4:30pm to receive her treat. This would continue for
twenty to thirty days in a row without stopping. She would also take note of the precise time she
received supper and make sure that on the next day (or next twenty or thirty days) she would be present
at my feet meowing the time. What time was it? "Feed me time"!
In the 41-42 years we’ve had cats its always been one at a time. During a couple of times
I’ve regretted that. There is a certain dynamic that exists in a multiple cat household that
we’ve never experienced. Obviously, the pain of losing a cat is lessened a little by knowing
that there is another cat in the house when you return from that last trip to the vet.
For couples who do not have children a pet plays an elevated part in the family dynamic.
Not only does exclusive access to your time play a part, but in many situations the adults
open to their pet in ways it might have been difficult or impossible in a household with
children.
While many of us do refer to our pets as our “children” make no mistake, we do not equate
human offspring (our own biological children) with four legged, winged or finned
animals. Yet, for those of us who do not have children our pets do play an elevated and expanded role,
one that is very important and sometimes is difficult to convey to others.
Not all child-parent relationships are smooth and a few can be downright heartbreaking.
All human pet relationships have challenges, but they are rarely at the same level of a
diminished or damaged child parent relationship. These wonderful pets typically adapt to
major changes with a calmness that is sometimes lacking in us humans. I know this to be
true from personal experience!
Few things in life break your heart like the death of a loved one. I still recall going to
funerals at an early age and pondering the mystery of life and death. That mystery never
changes even as the decades roll by. The mystery is most deeply felt when pondering the
change that occurs when one breathes their last breath or their heartbeat ceases.
Being a student of philosophy and religion, both formally with a degree, and informally as
a lifelong interest - that moment between life and death has captured my
conscious and unconscious imagination. I’ve written poem after poem chasing that zephyr
in an attempt to capture the moment in a frieze. My efforts are... well, they are just my
efforts. It’s impossible to say for sure what has been accomplished.
Happily my recollections of Arwen bring me back to that moment in time (see photo below) when
Debbie received her birthday gift, a little furry four legged kitten (a rescue!) who while surrounded by
20 friends and family plopped herself in Debbie’s lap with a look of love and contentment that seemed
almost supernatural. Arwen was happy. Arwen had a new home. Arwen had a new mommy.
