Mousie has died.
I am beyond devastated.
On Wednesday eve 8th June I was laying in bed,
trying to sleep with terrible anxiety for no apparent reason. When I woke on Thursday, my first thought
was, ‘I would be so devastated if Mousie was to die now’.
At 11:04am I received a text from Miranda, Mousie’s owner:
“Sorry to tell you that Mousie is not v well and in pain. Vet doing tests for
pancreatitis. Will have results this afternoon.”
As you can imagine, I was in shock, kind of freaky how I
knew. I have always maintained I was psychically connected to Mouse. I still believe
this to be.
I went to visit with her and stayed for 2.5 hours. It was
so painful, she was so knocked out on kitty morphine and dribbling. Her pupils
were huge and she just wasn’t there. I would like to think that she recognised
me. She came out of her hiding place in the basement. When I called for her in
the sing-song way that I always do, “Mou-sie!” “it’s the MOU-SIE!”. She was
very slow to come over, in so much pain. Laying on her front, not her usual
side/back with tummy on display, which is understandable she would not want me
to rub it. She purred a tuneful purr, not the usual purr, so I shall assume the
noise was because of her terrible discomfort as purrs can sometimes mean pain.
She was loving getting her head scratched, and I sat
there patting her for hours. Her owner came down to the basement to give her
the morphine exactly on schedule at 5pm. She was obviously traumatised by the
morphine injection, which was done orally by syringe. So she walked around a
bit, and went to hide in a dark, secure spot.
I was sitting on the floor, which is quite difficult for
me due to my bad lower back, and she was sitting there too, so out of it. I
kept talking to her, telling her how great she is and how she has helped me and
how she has comforted me in my toughest times. And how much I love her. And I
did love her. And I do love her.
I went back to my flat and anxiously awaited text from
At 7:33pm I wrote and asked if she heard back. This was the
response: “Yes, they have got back to me, but we’ve been digesting the news.
She definitely has pancreatitis. After discussing the options with the vet, and
much familial discussion/weeping, we’ve decided that she will be put to sleep
tomorrow”. I stared at my phone and
cried. I knew this was inevitable, but reading it was horrid. I wanted to go to
the vet’s office with her, but she said she preferred to go and be alone with
Mouse, but I was welcome to come up and see her before they went. (I fully
respect the owners decision).
I got to see her again in the morning, Friday 10th
June (this will now be known as the worst day of my life). I got there at
8:15am and sat down again, and she came up to me. I did not want to take
pictures, and I just wanted to think it was a very bad dream. I did not sleep a
wink and I looked like hell, but I didn’t care as I needed to see her, or I
wouldn’t forgive myself. I got the psychic feeling she knew that it was her
time. When I got up I kept going back to her, I couldn’t leave the room. I
wanted to kiss her, and pat her, and make it okay for her. Her breathing was
very low. I told her she was The Great Lady of Dignity, and The Grande Dame of
Highbury. I managed to bend down and kiss her head. She did not lean forward to
head-butt me. She was too weak. I tried to make eye contact with her, and when
it finally happened I lowered my eyelids to show her animal affection the way
cats do. She looked down. I told her again how much I love her, thanked her for
all of the comfort she has given me, and told her I’ll see her on the other
side. And I will.
I went home to my flat and just sat here like a zombie.
At 10:21am I received a text: “She’s gone. Very quickly and quietly”. I wrote
back with: I hope she was not scared. I was scared for her. Thank you for
telling me. The owner responded with: “No not scared at all. The vet is very
good and I was cuddling her”.
I know I will miss her terribly for a very, very long
time. Especially around the end of August and Xmas/New Year when they’d go away
and ask me to come in and take care of her. I would so look forward to that
time. I have to pray to heal from this pain, but I don’t know if I will.
I realise grief is a most selfish emotion. But I need to
learn to grieve in my own way. And grieve I will, for a very, very long time.
(*If it is not too weird for you guys, I’d like to keep
my blog going. I have hundreds of pictures of her from over the years, and I’d
love to share. I believe it would be therapeutic for me. I will give a date on