I Hope the Rainbow Bridge Exists

The past couple of weeks have been pretty stressful and sad. After I returned from Miami, the kitty sitter said that my kitty was missing her litter box. That is completely out of character for her. So we did the whole changing out the kitty litter and scrubbing the box. Still didn’t work. And then she started peeing all over the bathroom where her box is.

So naturally like any good pet parent, I took her to the vet for tests. And while waiting for the test results to come back, my kitty took a massive turn for the worst. She was peeing every 5 minutes and couldn’t always make it to the bathroom. I literally followed her around with paper towels, bleach wipes, and hardwood floor cleaner. Because she was in the litter box so much, I was constantly sweeping up kitty litter that was being tracked all over the condo. And she was so restless that I took to sleeping on the couch to try to get her to settle down with me.

After a week of this, the vet called back and told me that my kitty didn’t have an infection causing her behavior and she wasn’t sure, without the results of an additional and expensive test, whether it was a treatable issue or worse. What could I do? Of course I paid for that test and resumed my routine of being kitty nurse, hoping that those test results would give me just a little more time with her.

But a day later, my cat stopped eating. Not even her favorite treats got more than a sniff. And my heart broke because I knew what that meant. I spent an entire day in tears searching for a vet that would come to my home for a final appointment. My cat absolutely hated being put into her carrier and really hated being at the vet’s office. I didn’t want her to be stressed at the end. I wanted her to be home, comfortable in her surroundings. I found a few options, emailing all of them because I couldn’t talk without sobbing. One of them replied back basically telling me I needed to call to schedule and going into a bunch of long reasons why they couldn’t come until a few days from now. But another emailed back and the person replying back came across so caring and gentle that despite being slightly more expensive, I booked with them to come the next afternoon.

All day I tried to snuggle with my cat as much as she would let me. I cried so much that my eyes were almost swollen shut the next morning. I barely slept. And the whole morning of the appointment, I kept thinking to myself “I only have three more hours with her”, “I only have two more hours with her”, “I only have 15 more minutes.” I am so fortunate that my boss is a pet parent and understood when I said I needed the day off.

The vet came to my door wheeling a cart with her bag and a pet bed. She was incredibly warm and caring. She crouched down into a corner of my closet, my kitty’s favorite spot in the whole world, and gave my cat a sedative. I spent probably ten minutes weeping and petting her goodbye. I moved aside to give my hubby some time to say goodbye too. And even though we weren’t ready because we would never be ready, we gave the go-ahead for the vet to give the final shot. I gave my kitty head rubs as she breathed her last. It was very peaceful but heart breaking.

The vet tucked her into the pet bed, covering her with a blanket before she left my condo to take my kitty to the crematorium. I cried my eyes out the whole day.

Over the weekend, we flew to Florida to spend time with friends from Denver. This is my friend who seems to be there for me every time I experience a crushing loss. Because she and her boyfriend have lost pets, they were a source of comfort for me and let me get teary-eyed without awkwardness. We spent time floating in the pool and playing trivia at the local bars. It was a much needed time away.

Coming back home to the condo was really hard, not being greeted with our meowing furball, not doing the routines of being a pet parent. I am still looking for her in corners, wondering where she is before I remember. I had fifteen years of her being my near-constant companion. The condo is emptier without her presence. I picked up her ashes and paw print today and wondering if my dad would be ok sharing space on the shelf with her.

I’m grieving for both my dad and now my kitty. I’m hoping that somewhere he’s keeping an eye on her for me. And that’s weird because most of the time, I really don’t believe there is a heaven or hell or afterlife. But as I’ve gotten older, I can understand how people cling to that comfort.

And maybe my kitty or my dad sent me a sign. We landed in Fort Myers and were driving with our friends to the house we were staying in. I looked out the window – and there, in between two white puffy clouds against a blue sky was a rainbow bridging the clouds. It gave me a hopeful feeling that the rainbow bridge might actually exist.