Ash

There is some part of 'inevitable' that just doesn't seem to register. Knowledge does nothing for grief when events unfold.

Ash died yesterday. We've known something was in the wings for a while, but, as CB pointed out, 'you just never think it will be today.' I don't think I have before experienced the passing of someone closer to me; pet or person. It was a tremendously intimate experience.

Grief has got to be the most selfish and self-indulgent of all of the emotions. It is also probably the most necessary of all the emotions. It allows us to accept and move on. We don't characterise it this way, but grieving and mourning are really for the survivors. No matter what your theology is, there is no downside to death for the deceased. The near-eastern and western religions believe, almost invariable, that you go to heaven. The only exceptions being those who don't play nice or those who don't complete the paperwork in time. I don't think animals are permitted into heaven in Christianity, but I'm sure there must be a loophole for pets. For atheists, everything is simply over. There is no consciousness remaining to be aware of itself. For cats who live in wealthy, North American households, the only truly problematic theologies are those involving reincarnation. They pretty much haven't got anywhere to go but down.

Ash was twenty one and in better shape than you might expect despite, or because of, the quantity and variety of her meds. We took her to the vet because she seemed to be winding down and it turns out she had a tumor crowding her other organs and was not eating as a consequence. Friends and family alike gave CB and I more than one good natured ribbing over the ends we would go to over Ash. Daily: fibre, Cosequin, and Lactulose on her low protien food, a tablet of Fortekor, a tablet of Amlodopine, a capsule of Calcitriol, oral gel to keep her gums healthy, and a bit of potassium paste to wash it all down. In her day, she has also had a blood transfusion (prior to us meeting) and spent a week at McMaster University receiving radiation therapy for a hyperactive thyroid gland.

I think most folks understand the attachment people have for their pets, but as strange as it sounds, I never really viewed Ash as a pet or a possession. Her life was my responsibility: food; shelter; comfort; friendship. That's pretty much the definition of a pet, but there is far more feeling that CB and I brought to the table than is reflected in that word. In the end, there were possible treatments for Ash, but she would have had a terrible quality of life for a short time, even if she survived. It was the easiest decision I ever made and yet the most full of regret.

It was a very dignified death. We spent some time with her. She was then sedated. We chose to be present when they injected her. Since her failing kidney's were diagnosed, Ash dying alone has been a weight on my mind. I was shocked how sudden she disappeared. Like the air ripping from your lungs when you plunge into icy water. But it was dignified.

P.S. In true Ash fashion, she did stick us with one hell-of-a bill on the way out.