Angels Have Whiskers

Pearl:  When Doves Fly

I always knew this day would come. From the moment she arrived at my mother's doorstep with her siblings and I took her into my life, I knew I'd one day have to say goodbye.

Being in the aftermath is much harder than I'd expected. Tigris, my angel of 20ish years, is notably absent. 

I'm doing my best to not be home. Each time I walk through my door the reality is a shock to my system. I realize that is insanely unfair to our other cat, Mr. Binx who must be so lonely home alone all day with out his buddy to bother and pounce on. 

As she was so devoted to me, now I honor her, my beautiful aqua/green eyed long haired white maned kitty.

Tigris was the start of "my" family.

She arrived into my life during my first year of law school. What impeccable timing she had. She pounced right into my heart during some incredibly intense years. The great big city was noisy and hectic and I truly needed someone on my side and across my lap.

She knew exactly when I needed a study break. 

She’d sense my stress, stroll up and with each stroke of her beautifully long soft fur, she’d take me right out my anxiety and into the present moment. That was her magic. My fear would melt away.

She was with me for all my major life happenings.

I met my would be husband two years later who asked, “what if I’m allergic to your cat?” To which I replied “don’t be.” He was taken back by my response, like would I actually choose a cat over prince charming. Luckily for him, he wasn’t allergic.

And then there were three.

She’d be with us through many new homes and lots more changes. I loved watching her scope out new environments. 

A naturally curious explorer, she’d carefully sweep the perimeter of every room scanning the energy. She’d jump onto my back and I’d give her a lift up to explore high places and get a birds eye view. 

Next up were the introduction to my children. 

She was amazing with them. With each new priority claiming my attention she took her place amongst the ranks with grace and in stride.

She loved me unconditionally for 20 years. 

She protected, guided and loved me. She did all of this willingly and barely asked for anything in return. Even the days where I neglected her completely, she was still faithful and loyal. When I left for days on end for vacations she welcomed me back gleefully.

During all my dramatic turn of events, she gave me absolutely no troubles over the years. Maybe once she had an ear thing but that was it. Last year I saw a big change in her, much like I recognized in my grandparents when the end was closer than the beginning.

She began her physical decline. We visited the vet more regularly for fluids and her long beautiful mane became matted and unkempt. I bought her specialty food. The spark she in her eyes faded a bit. Yet she stayed. Primarily because I wasn't yet ready to let her go.

It was the first time she required more attention, care and cleaning after. At her first sign of trouble my conversations with the Vet were about saying when. When would I put her down. It amazed me really. When the quality of life declines, we can talk so freely about it for our animals but not for ourselves.

I just knew that was a power I did not wish to wield. Plus, she’d give me more time if I asked her to. I also haven’t experienced this before. I just knew I wanted to be with her at the end.

The day of I saw she was unable to jump up onto the table like she did every other day of her life. I planned to take her to the vet the next day but instinctually knew there would be no tomorrow.

That night instead of taking her post a top of the cable box or on our bed she went to sleep on the bathroom floor. It was a sleepless night for me. I heard her meow a few times during the night. When I did trail off and awoke, she was gone. Just her body remained.

In that moment, I had to decide whether to bring my children who'd be up soon for school, in on the scene or shield them from it. My parents shielded me plenty from death while growing up. 

Death is a very natural and regular part of life and ultimately, this was not just a teachable moment, this was a funeral for a family member.

I moved Tigris’s body so my kids can do their morning routine. And as I sat in the beginning of my grief, my husband brought them in to say their goodbyes.  

We spent the day together for Tigris. Together my party of three brought my first "baby" out East to the crematory. It was a surreal experience taking the final ride with my companion. Memories of our two decades together montaged in my mind. PM Dawn's song "I'd Die Without You" played on the radio (click to play) and as the lyrics I placed my hand on Tigris, cried and said, "thank you."

We prayed as we waited for her ashes to be returned to us in an urn. 

Tigris's Rainbow

I pictured my grandparents and their cat Sasha with Tigris. And one by one I began to remember many of my friends pet's who'd be welcoming her on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.  

One absolute truth is the love I feel is far greater than the loss. Now, she can be on my lap anywhere I am. 

My son has been taking it pretty hard. He’s like me. One gigantic sensitive mushball of a soul. My daughter, in her beloved flippant pixie self is ready and excited for a new kitten.  

As much as I want to run and get another kitty to fill this aching void, I know it can’t be rushed. 

Tigris found me when I wasn't looking but exactly when I needed her. Taking on a pet is a lifetime commitment and my next will have some mighty paws to fill. It'll be with me through my children’s bat mitzvah’s, college and my menopausal years. That ain’t no easy task!

For now, I know my life was blessed by a whiskered angel. 

Copyright © 2016 Cynthia Litman. All Rights Reserved.