Even our pets must come to grips with grief...
Sequel to “The Ride Home,” a memorial for Misty, my 17-year-old Himalayan mix who crossed the Rainbow Bridge on February 21, 2020.
Today, on the 28th, I picked up her ashes from the animal clinic where she was euthanized. Along this ride home, as during the previous one a week ago, I concerned myself with Hope’s reaction. Justified, due to the week-long behaviors my 14-year-old domestic shorthair exhibited:
Lying down in front of the pet taxi, Misty’s last-known whereabouts, calling for her companion of fifteen years.
Needing more reassurances than usual, I’ve obliged by ministering extra kisses and belly rubs.
And, so…
Hope was in the office, at the opposite end of the living room, when and where I began arranging Misty’s mementos on a shelf—cedar urn; heart-shaped glass trinket box containing a lock of fur; vase filled with a dried pink rose.
Busying myself in the kitchen afterwards, I heard Hope crying—in the living room. There she was, perched on top of a trunk adjacent to Misty’s shelf, acknowledging her companion had come home.
“A cat has absolute emotional honesty: human beings, for one reason or another, may hide their feelings, but a cat does not.” (Ernest Hemingway)
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Ron