Yesterday we regretfully had to say goodbye to our loving, beautiful boy Simba. This farewell caught us by surprise and was very unexpected. Although Simba had a long history of health issues, I never imagined having to say goodbye to him so soon, or so suddenly. So it is with great sadness that I have to let go of this gentle, beautiful life and soul and say a final farewell to our dear boy.
Simba was born feral and came to live in our backyard permanently in 2004. Because he adopted us, we built a shelter for him against our fence to protect him from the rain and added soft blankets to keep him warm and dry. He ate his food every morning and night on our patio table and when darkness fell he would take himself to his shelter, and go to sleep. He knew that we were now his home and he became increasingly comfortable with us and trusted us. Though at the time, I could not touch him, I would go out and say goodnight to him in his shelter and he would stay and listen. I felt honored that he let me sit so close to him, though he watched me cautiously.
I wish more than anything I could change what happened to you. I wish that I never went away. I wish I could go back and change everything and do things differently so you would still be here with me. I wish that I could have protected you and prevented what happened to you. I wish I was there for you so you never suffered. Oh, how I wish.
But nothing will change what happened. But I miss you. I will always miss you. I will always look for you in all of your special places—lying in the garden, under the trees, on the grass, curled up on your chair, and always sleeping on my pillow. I will never get used to you not being there—those places will never be the same without you. They are empty now.
I’m sensing the time is close now for my elderly cat Red. I instinctively felt it early this morning that Red is close to the end of his life, and could even be in the early stages of the dying process. He is getting weaker, slower, more feeble and fragile, losing weight and appearing more gaunt.
He came to me in bed this morning seeking to be close—very close, nosing to get under the covers for warmth and safety. He gently plows his head into mine messaging me he wants to lie next to me. I cuddle him, hold him, embrace his frail, skeletal body. As he lies stretched out along the length of my body, I cuddle him to comfort him. I gently run my hand over his thin body. He purrs loudly, strongly, breathing and purring. I can’t sleep to his constant machine of a purr, but somehow it comforts me. I will miss this purr, this beautiful soul, this survivor, this brave cat that has endured so much. Continue reading My Elderly Cat – Signs the End is Near→