As I write this, I wonder how much more I can cry. I’m writing this here, but I expect I won’t spend much time online. I have spent this evening with Scotty. This is an odd thing I observe: I expected Scotty to nap. But he does not. He scarcely closes his eyes. I wonder: Is it the same as for me? I don’t want to close my eyes for a moment on our remaining moments.
This time tomorrow, Scotty will be in the presence of Godde, his soul knowing what is still hidden from me. He will pass from this life to the life of the soul.
An event happened this morning that told me “It is time.” I need to let Scotty go.
And so I made two calls. First, I called my priest to see about her schedule tomorrow. Then I called my vet and got on her schedule.
Here is what will happen: There’s a meeting I must attend at work tomorrow morning. Then I will come home at lunch-time and spend more quiet time with Scotty. At 3:45 [Central US Time], Scotty and I will be at church, where we will meet with our priest for prayers. … Thank you, 8th Sacrament, for making a suggestion that led me to that good decision. … Then we will come home and about 4:30, the vet whom Scotty and I call “Aunt Alice” – our beloved vet who brought Scotty back from near death in 2006 – will arrive at our home. She will administer the injections that will send Scotty’s body into death and his soul into the arms of Godde.
Alice and I had a good talk this evening. She, too, is grieving Scotty’s impending death.
Thanks to the prayers and liturgies I found, and those you sent me, I have no doubt that she will join me in prayer at that time.
I made the decision to ask Alice to come here to my home for two reasons. First, I know that Scotty finds vet visits stressful. More importantly, I believe the other two cats need to be present, need to know what is happening.
That is especially important, I think, for Mocha, who is Scotty’s dearest friend. She adores him, and I believe she needs to know what is happening to him tomorrow evening. It wouldn’t be fair just to take him away. She needs to be here with us, to see it, to sense it.
Let me tell you a couple of stories about Scotty and Mocha.
Back in 2008, when Alice and I put Shug to sleep, Scotty was there with us. He and Shug had been fast friends. He groomed her after the injection and after her death.
When Scotty and I were left alone, I didn’t plan to get a 2nd cat … but fate had another plan. A few weeks later, I had Scotty at the vet’s for boarding over a weekend. When I got there, the staff told me about Mocha, a young cat, and that she and Scotty had bonded. Mocha was a 6-month-old foundling, in need of a home. Scotty was “old man” by then. They took me back into the kennel area, and put Mocha into Scotty’s cage. Mocha immediately started grooming Scotty, then curled up tight against him. I could see that they were a good match. Mocha came home with us. And she has always been that way with Scotty. She adores him.
I’ve told you that Scotty has become very unsteady on his feet. He has adopted the bathmat as his favorite place lately. This evening, after the cats had eaten, Scotty wandered back to that bathmat. Mocha ran ahead of him, and lay down on the rug. Scotty tottered onto it, and was trying to do that “circling in preparation for lying down” that cats do. But he’s too weak. He just fell down – his torso directly upon Mocha’s head. And Mocha didn’t move a whisker. She just let him lie upon her. … Of course, this was one of very many moments that sent me to tears. What dear friends they are!
I went to do a couple more chores around the house … getting ready for tomorrow. When I went back into the bathroom, they were still on the bathmat, but with Mocha lying with Scotty, grooming him, and generally loving on him. I clipped this photo.
Click to embiggen.
I hope these stories will help you understand why I say I feel Mocha must be present tomorrow, when Scotty departs this life.
Scotty’s been by my side on the sofa as I have written this. We are intentionally together more fervently, more intentionally than we generally are. He refuses to close his eyes, as I refuse to have him out of my sight. Perhaps he, too, knows what’s going to happen tomorrow.
Dear friends, I know that many of you have sent words of prayer and support on the blog or via e-mail. I have read them and wept over many of them. But I just can’t reply individually tonight. Tonight, it’s just time for Scotty and me. I hope you understand.
I'm going to gather Scotty up into my arms and take him to bed with me. One more time. I want to feel him lying with me one last time. I think you all get that.
This time tomorrow, I won't have him with me. He'll be with Godde. I know it, but it's still so hard to accept.
So ... I'm going into "radio silence" for a while. I give thanks for the prayers I know you all are sending. I am blessed by your friendship.
As I write this, Mocha has hopped up on to the sofa, and she's grooming Scotty again. "Having loved her own ... " These kitties break my heart.