My Beloved Cat

My beloved cat died yesterday.

This illustrates perfectly that I oftentimes have no prescience when it comes to my OWN life.

We were all saying good-bye to our other cat, Alabama, who appeared to be dying of renal failure. With the farewell over, my husband put her into the vehicle and drove to our animal hospital.

I looked behind me at the back porch and saw something small and dark for a second near Avery, then it disappeared.

Not a second later, Avery let out a howl of sorts. I ran over to the back porch because it seemed as if he might have had a hairball. I didn't think he was dying: it hadn't even occurred to me. After some few minutes, I realized that he was gone and I called my husband.

He was waiting in the Vet's office with the other cat when I reached him.

"Avery's dead!" I shouted.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Hurry home, honey. Avery is DEAD!!!"

It was an unbelievable day. Scully stayed home from work and we were all sick with grief. I had to explain to our two-year-old daughter that Avery "was sick and had to go stay with other cats now." I think it helped her to process the absence without unnecessary detail that could frighten and confuse her.

After she went to bed, we held a tiny funeral for him.


Avery, June 1995 - August 2, 2005