Back fom the vet's.
After the news Allie had died the assistant asked me if I wanted to come see Allie one last time. See her? I didn't know how I felt, I couldn't answer. I was still in shock. After some phone calls to family – brother and daughters, I felt I needed to say goodbye to her. I should go.
I went to the clinic with a broken heart to hold her for the very last time.
The entire way I kept thinking how much this hurt. Same as when I lost my mom and dad. But Allie's a pet, just a cat. People will think I'm silly—weeping, sobbing. At least the clinic staff understood—they've seen it before.
While I waited, Michelle, president Staten Island Hope walked in. She had already gotten word of Allie's death and was there on other rescue business (Dr. Singh does all of our veterinary care, much of it pro bono). She said a word of comfort, but it sounded pretty businesslike. In her position she's used to seeing sick or euthanized rescue cats. She lost her cat last year. Still, it hurt that she didn't seem to feel the same about Allie's death as I did.
They brought Allie out wrapped in a towel and placed her on the table in the exam room and called me in. This was hard for me. I loved this cat. She was special, dear, sweet, she was a comfort during my separation and pending divorce (I'm still having trouble reviewing the divorce papers waiting for my signature. The wife is anxious to get it finalized).
When I entered the room I broke down. I stood sobbing, pleading to Allie my sorrow and pain at losing her, and my anger at myself for not recognizing she was so sick—I'm medically trained and didn't see the symptoms, the jaundice, the loss of appetite, her lethargy, weight loss. If only I had paid closer attention.
But then, as I looked at her barren eyes, still stroking her and kissing her on the head, there came over me a moment of peace. It was over now. She's gone. At rest.
Goodbye, Allie. You left me too soon. But you gave me some memories. About a cat with a long tail, a perfect goatee (and big ears, too!) whose sweetness stole my heart. I'm adding them to those memories that Sawyer and Piper give me—Sawyer and Piper who, curled at my feet as I dictate to Siri, look up at me at the sound of their names.
