Farewell, A.J....

Goodbyes are never easy, and for someone who's spiritually sensitive they can be even more confusing.

Today, we had to put one of our cats down for chronic bladder stones - there was nothing they could do that had any possibility of his survival for more than a month or two. He was suffering, and the choice was made to do the kinder thing, no matter how difficult.

AJ wasn't your average housecat at the very least. From his build and sheer weight, as well as from other factors established throughout his life, he's been believed to be half bobcat, half domestic cat. He was never completely comfortable in his own skin, and it showed.

His purr was like that of a big cat... more of a "urrr urrr urrr urr" on his exhale than the steady "purrrrrrrrRRRRRRRrrrrrr" of a normal housecat. He wasn't graceful - he fell off of almost everything he jumped on. He ate enough for two or three cats -  including that which belonged to them, regularly nudging other cats who didn't eat their food fast enough away from their bowls so he could have all he wanted.

But he was a loving, and incredibly wonderful cat who'd been going through a hard time the last few months. It started with him peeing in places not the litterbox, but when there didn't seem to be anything else wrong with him, we started giving him Uriflow to clear up anything he might've had growing. But he just kept peeing everywhere... and yesterday, we found blood.

He was rushed to the vet's last night, and they thought it was a urine crystal. So we paid for the procedure that was supposed to save his life, and went back this morning to move him from one hospital to another so he could go on fluids for a few days and recover.

But it was not to be.

They took an x-ray of him to make sure his catheter was in properly, and to their shock they found a HUGE amount of bladder stones in his bladder - more than they'd ever seen in another cat. Long story short, they could've done a surgery, removed the stones... but they would've been back in a month and we would've been back in the same position. The decision was made to save him from the suffering he was obviously in... At nine years old, at about 9:45 this morning, AJ went on to his next life.

Here is where the spirituality part of this comes in - I'm very connected to animal spirits. I made sure he knew what was going to happen, as best I could. I made sure he was prepared for it. I talked to the other cats before I left the house this morning to make sure they'd know.

AJ beat us home. I walked in the door to see him sniffing around the bowls in the kitchen, looking for the breakfast he missed. I started laughing - and thank goodness my mom and fiancee were there and KNOW about me and what I can do - all I had to do was point and say "he beat us home," and suddenly everyone felt much better.

The fear, of course, when putting an animal to sleep outside the home, is that the spirit may wander or be unable to find it's way back. AJ had NO such problems. He's already fully integrated into the ghost cat society in our house (no, seriously... Squeak, Moe, and Flake are always around, and I'm sure they welcomed him), and... he isn't in any pain anymore.

However, the juxtaposition of reality is that... I can see him, but I can't pet him, hug him, or touch him. I'm aware that he's happy, but I can't interact with him anymore. So as strange as it sounds... or maybe as not strange as it sounds... Even though I know where he is and that he's happy... I still miss him. I miss him horribly. And I guess part of me feels like I don't have the right to cry, since of all of us - I can see him, I can still interact with him in some way. But... I miss him. Horribly.

I'm sorry if this blog has been depressing today, but it needed to be documented.

Goodbye and hello, AJ. I love you.