One of the best friends I’ve ever had died two days ago.
And my ex and I killed her.
Her name was Shelby. To say she was a cat seems like it’s not enough. She was truly the best cat in the world. She represented what all other cats should strive to be.
She was as much a person as you or I or anybody else could be.
She was incredibly intelligent, and mindful, and always wanted to know what my ex and I were doing during the almost 18 years that she lived with us. And if she didn’t approve what she saw, she would very vocally let us know.
She owned us. We were her pets and her children.
And she was our daughter.
We were all family, deeply and closely and with intense love.
And she’s dead now. And reality doesn’t seem like it’s right anymore. It seems like everything is skewed. Like nothing makes sense, like nothing means anything anymore.
Her health began deteriorating a couple of months ago, and during the last week we noticed she wasn’t eating or drinking hardly anything. We took her to a vet at an animal hospital we trusted, and the vet struggled to keep her alive, managing to clean out her system and pump her up with enough fluids to allow her one more good day at home.
Last Thursday I spent most of the day at my ex’s house with Shelby. I took her outside, where she used to love to roam, for one last time. I played with her with string one last time. I took her for a “magic carpet” ride in a box above my head, soaring from room to room, for a last time. Mostly, I just lay next to her while she rested, and gently scratched her head or comforted her as she slept, her brown and copper fur under my fingers.
The next day, my ex and I took her to the vet. My ex researched everything possible about Shelby’s condition on the Internet, and I probed the vet with tons of questions. In the end, however, we realized that Shelby was suffering, and we did what we had to do. We held her gently, my ex rubbing her face softly, as the vet gave her a lethal injection. And, suddenly, Shelby collapsed and … just wasn’t there anymore. Her body remained, but without the immense presence that made up Shelby’s personality.
We caused her soul to separate from her body.
I think I went a little insane then. My ex later said he felt the same way, that he too felt like his mind became unglued.
It was especially hard for him. Shelby was mostly my cat during almost all of her life. She and I had a bond that was as close as anything I’ve had with any person ever. But Shelby also loved my ex, and after I moved out, Shelby and my ex became deeply attached. Every night Shelby would scratch on the bedroom door to get in when she wanted, and would order my ex around to be let out as well. Shelby would vocally demand my ex to go to bed when Shelby wanted him to, and then she would curl up next to my ex after he had settled down. When Shelby was ready to get up in the morning, she would walk on my ex’s face, making sure he didn’t oversleep. And through all that, my ex responded one way – with love. Now that Shelby is gone, my ex said he is having the most horrible time sleeping because a critical part of my ex’s nights is gone forever.
Neither of us will see Shelby again in this lifetime. And that doesn’t just sadden us. It infuriates us.
She is our daughter. Our friend. Our family. How dare the universe take her away!
I know deeply in my heart, without a doubt, she’s gone on to another life. But where is she? What’s happening to her? I want to demand answers, but I don’t know how. I feel like a mother who took her daughter to an airport then kissed her farewell with the knowledge that not only would I never see her again, but I would never even know where she went.
I want so much to communicate with her. To know that she’s safe. And I never will, at least not in this lifetime.
Somehow I’ve always felt Shelby and I knew each other before we met in this life. We adopted her from the Denver Dumb Friends’ League animal shelter. I was walking past row after row of cats when I saw Shelby and for some reason just realized she was the cat for me. And she was. My ex has always marveled at how I just knew, and how Shelby truly turned out to be a cat beyond even the most fantastic expectations.
Right before Shelby died, I did a quiet ceremony while holding her, and I talked to my Jaguar spirit guide about her next incarnation. Jaguar said she would make a good mountain lion, but I said I was afraid she would be lonely because I know Shelby loved us so much. To me, Shelby is beyond any restrictions. She may have been a cat in this life, but she was greater than me and greater than anybody I knew.
After talking with Jaguar about that, I tapped into the love of my ex and myself and used it, giving it to Jaguar, while asking Jaguar to direct and focus our love in a way to make Shelby’s transition into the next life a smooth one, and that she would always remember that we loved her. And Jaguar said he would do that, and I felt it happening, and the vet gave her the injection soon afterward.
My memories of Shelby are too many to write down, but a few stand out.
Shelby would always follow us around, determined to stick her nose into our affairs. If we got a box in the mail, she would jump on the counter and sniff it and try and figure it out first. If we got in groceries, she would investigate them and give her approval (or lack of approval) to our purchase. And she was so very vocal about whatever was on her mind, and she thought about a lot, that was clear!
One day her nosiness was her downfall. My ex’s mom is from Puerto Rico, and it’s a tradition there to throw potfuls of water out the door at exactly the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Day. Well, one year we opened the front door, and just as we threw out the water, Shelby decided to run outside in curiosity regarding what we were looking at – and all the water landed right on her in the middle of the cold winter night. She ran back in very unhappily, and we bundled her up and dried her off while laughing uproariously.
About a decade ago, we were living in a townhome in Denver near a large field that ran downhill to a wooded stream. Shelby loved interacting with wildlife – in particular, the squirrels. We had a squirrel feeder on the back porch, and Shelby would wait patiently until a squirrel would approach, and then she would take off running to chase the squirrel away. The thing is, the squirrels weren’t really overly scared of her, and you could tell because every so often Shelby would actually get close enough to catch a squirrel, and the squirrel would stop and angrily turn and start chattering at Shelby, who would quickly back away and either stare in indignation or retreat back to the porch. I think Shelby knew it was as much a game as anybody, but she loved it very much.
One day I decided it would be fun to take Shelby down the hill to explore the stream (we had taken her to similar areas a couple of times before), and so with her perched on my shoulder, we headed on our journey. Along the way we crossed over old, abandoned railroad tracks which … turned out to be not so abandoned after all. Just as we were crossing, a restored trolley car came very slowly down the tracks in our direction and blew its horn to alert us. Shelby very accordingly freaked and ran back up the hill as fast as her legs were carry her, clawing me mightily in the process, and she never wanted to go to there again. It sounds weird, but it was a very funny experience, and I think Shelby actually enjoyed the excitement.
She fully trusted me, from almost the moment I first brought her home, to the day she died. She trusted me to take her, turn her upside down and cuddle her in my arms, like a mother holding a baby. And as I would rock her, she would purr the loudest, most wonderful purrs. She would only trust me to do that with her, and it was a trust I valued more than almost anything on Earth.
The last few days have been very tough, needless to say. My ex and I have been together for each other, supporting each other in very important ways. When I had broken down in tears, hating myself for what we had done, my ex would convince me we had done the right thing. And I would be there for my ex when he would feel horrible about our actions in having Shelby put to sleep.
“Death is the price a pet owner pays to relieve their pet’s suffering,” he told me he read online, meaning that we will always feel guilty at making the choice to kill Shelby, but we did it for the right reasons.
Friday, after Shelby’s body was put into a box, I kept wanted to scream. I kept wanting to try and wake her up. I kept feeling like it was impossible she could be dead. The entire world suffered at the loss of Shelby, and what’s amazing is that so little of the world will ever realize that.
Friday after our children got home from school, we buried Shelby in our back yard. My ex and my son said their farewells, and then I read a poem by Suzanne Vega that I felt was appropriate (it’s attached at the bottom of today’s post). I then covered the grave, and we all put rocks on top and walked away.
Well, except for my daughter. She didn’t want to take part in the funeral. She actually seemed almost casual about what had happened. I can’t help but wonder if her cat nature just sees Shelby’s death as a part of life, and she’s handling it in a very sane way.
My ex said Shelby was the sanest of all of us. And I tend to agree.
Master has been wonderful during this time. He gave me almost all of Thursday off to be with Shelby, then all of Friday to deal with the euthanasia and the aftermath, and then all of Saturday to be with my family and try to move on.
Part of me feels like I’ll never truly move on from Shelby’s death. I have two human children. And I had a feline one. And my feline daughter died two days ago. And there’s now a hole in my heart that I don’t see how it could ever be filled again.
Goodbye for now, Shelby. You blessed our lives in more ways than I could imagine. I’ll see you again, someday.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"World Before Columbus"
by Suzanne Vega
If your love were taken from me
Every color would be black and white
It would be as flat as the world before Columbus
That's the day that I lose half my sight
If your life were taken from me
All the trees would freeze in this cold ground
It would be as cruel as the world before Columbus
Sail to the edge and I'd be there looking down
Those men who lust for land
And for riches strange and new
Who love those trinkets of desire
Oh they never will have you
And they'll never know the gold
Or the copper in your hair
How could they weigh the worth
Of you so rare
If your love were taken from me
Every light that's bright would soon go dim
It would be as dark as the world before Columbus
Down the waterfall and I'd swim over the brim
Those men who lust for land
And for riches strange and new
Who love those trinkets of desire
Oh they will never have you
And they'll never know the gold
Or the copper in your hair
How could they weigh the worth
Of you so rare
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