Goodbye, Monster

On Sunday, June 4th, 2023, I had to make one of the hardest choices in my life - to say goodbye to my beloved Monster Cat (or, her actual name, Quirk). 

I want to write this because I think it is important to capture the big moments of life, and her loss is a big moment for me. 

I have written this post a dozen times in my head over the last week. I could talk about the "why" - about diabetic ketoacidosis, missed signs, and the knowledge that leaving her at the emergency vet for days of emergency treatment, with no guarantees, would be cruel to a cat who couldn't handle two hours at the vet for our last attempt at a blood curve. 

I mentally wrote posts about "how" - about them bringing her in a little nest of a cat bed and blankets, about her trying to crawl out of said bed to get to Kyle, about moving her to his lap and being holding her face as her heart stopped. I could talk about the bone-deep knowledge that she had already left her body before the vet even lifted her stethoscope to confirm. Or about the dark comedy of the poor lab tech trying to bring us her carrier at the exact wrong moment*. 

I also mentally wrote posts about the grief since, the moments that made me break down and sob. This included keeping a list of things that brought deep, sobbing crashes of grief over this last week. For example: 

• Realizing I had left the bathroom door ajar for her 
• Her not being in the window as I left the house, and again when I returned 
• Remembering I have gamecation days booked later this month and won't have her for company 
• Laying on the loveseat and knowing she wouldn't be jumping up to lay down right beside my face 
• Seeing my office garbage can and the fact it wasn't knocked over 
• Receiving a very kind gift of a pin with a cat hiding in a plant (and thinking about how she would have knocked the plant over and killed it, not hidden in it) 

I started posts describing her life. But how do you describe the amazing life of a cat who lived on two continents, got lost in a Manchester hotel room, bit me on command, and was adored by many who had never actually met her (but heard her adventures through my gaming mic) in a single blog post? 

I think what I want to say, at the end of the day, is that losing a beloved companion hurts. And it's okay to grieve. It's okay to love them when they are gone, and to miss them in your bones. I will grow around this pain, as I have with other losses before. I will find peace knowing she is still here with me, just in a different way. Someday I will bring in a new furry companion (or two). And she, my little Monster, will be with me the whole time.