Rain Cloud

The kids are gone this week for Spring Break and I had a list a mile long that I planned to accomplish not needing to be on their time. As any parent can relate kids not only come with a lot of responsibilities but with a massive schedule. With them away, I was not bound to a routine and planned to put in the work; after I took one day to myself to fully relax in the silence, besides, Sunday is Rest Day. Tomorrow is the last day of the week and I have only managed to cross two items off my list. I woke up this morning chastising myself for my lack of commitment, but I don’t feel a sense of failure, more like the whole week passed me by in a daze. I sort of floated through each day barely eating more than one meal and spending a lot of time in reflection. I have been forced to admit that it is grief and sorrow that haunts me. I knew that I was sad, but I never expected the loss of a pet to be so traumatic.

On the 15th of March we lost our family dog, Cali, after ten years. We spent a lot of time deciding on the “right” dog for our family and she was a perfect fit; calm with the boys when they were small and protective too. About four years ago I knew that she was not getting the activity and attention she needed in our home. Those before mentioned schedules took too much of our time, so we made the difficult decision to have her live with the Grandparents. Although not ideal, she now had another dog to play with and we were still able to visit with her. It never ceased to amaze me how Cali never forgot us, always greeting us with joy and excitement. It was extremely hard to hear that she was losing her fight and passed a few days later.

The reality of losing Cali only brought home the fact that we would soon be losing Rain, our cat of eighteen years. We had expected that he would pass a few times over the years. He was slow to move, losing weight, hearing and sight were also diminishing, but he would rally and prove us all wrong. Chasing birds outside, play fighting with the other house-cats, and demanding of food. However, Rain did start spending more time sleeping in isolation and I told the kids to say their goodbyes before they left for the week. On Monday, the 26th, I was forced to call the kids to give their last words of love, as I held Rain while he took his final breath.

We have lost pets before, which is why I never imagined that this would be as painful but having Rain before I even had children has made it different. His presence is noticeably missing in the house. I have even caught myself looking for him when I feed the other cats or when closing up at night, making sure he isn’t left outside. He was there to purr and settle my spirit when writers block would take over. I depended on him in a way I never realized until he was no longer here. I have heard many refer to their pets as fur babies and I understand that concept better now, but for me, Rain was more of a best friend and confidant, we really grew up together, raised the kids together.

I haven’t yet shed tears over this loss, even without the children here, I am so use to being strong for them that I push all my feelings over a situation away. I am sure that is not healthy, or the “right” way to process emotions, but that is what this post is essentially for. There is no right or wrong way in how people deal with tragic events, I didn’t even bother to share my pet’s passing on facebook, until I decided that it really is words of heart, mind, and soul. I admit that I am deeply hurt and expect that I will be crying right alongside my kids when we put Rain to rest. We have had kitten burials, a dramatic fish funeral, I think there was even one for an ant farm, but this will be one that stays with all of us. A pet that will never be forgotten, a real member of our family. We love you Rain!