Good Grief
A portrait of Eddie, painted by me with acrylic on canvas.
(Just a bit of a step up from my MS Paint work…)
CW: Grief, pet death, discussed in detail, please tread carefully 💜
I will eventually do an audio version of this article, right now it’s just too fresh and raw for me to handle.
This fucking suuuuuucks.
This isn’t going to be eloquent, this article is a part of my grieving process and that’s okay.
On Monday, our old grey Tabby, Eddie, died of old age.
A forlorn Eddie staring through me into the 5th dimension, wondering why the water isn’t flowing in this dimension
He’d been slowing down for a while, no longer able to jump up onto the bathroom counter as easily, and he wasn’t finishing his meals. In hindsight these signs were obvious but at the time we thought it was just because of a temporary use of canned food between batches of homemade raw food, or maybe he wasn’t able to clean the fake food off of his bowl as easily, so we tried a different bowl. The things that we leap to as easy problems to solve.
For the last 5 months since our move, as soon as he saw one of us coming out of the bedroom, he’d leap down from his cat tower and demand we turn the bathroom tap on so he could drink water (very ineffectively). On Tuesday morning, he didn’t greet me in the bathroom first thing, as he usually did.
He was lying on the floor in the lounge in a beautiful loaf, but he struggled to get up, then sat back down. Didn’t even get up as food was being prepared. That’s when we really started to worry about him. We put some on a plate and brought it to him, he nibbled at it a little and ate a few treats, but lost interest quickly. We read into the signs of an elderly cat passing and he checked all of the boxes. He wasn’t in distress or pain, he was just letting go.
We spent the rest of the day with him, lying in the sun with him and giving him all the cuddles and love. The only time he got up on his own was to go to the litterbox and piss like a racehorse. Then he wanted to lie down in the litter-box so we picked him up and moved him back to his sunbeam with us.
TRIGGER WARNING, I’m about to describe his passing in detail, skip ahead to below the picture if need be.
His breathing started to get really raspy and heavy, he wasn’t responding to stimuli as much so Hannah picked him up and cradled him in her arms, as he had loved his whole life. I don’t know how long it took but his breathing got worse. He seemed to come back to consciousness for a bit and let out the tiniest, raspiest little meow, looked at Hannah and me, and then relaxed back into the cuddle. His breathing got worse, he spasmed, coughed, peed violently, and then he was gone. The light left his eyes and his body started to shut down, continuing to gasp less and less frequently. The silence between the last two breaths seemed to stretch on forever.
He got cold so quickly.
I stood up and started to panic. We were both crying hysterically, Hannah was trapped on the couch holding Eddie and his pee, I grabbed paper towels and tried to dry her as best as I could.
(making some more visual space for those who don’t want to read the details here….)
A skrunkly little lad, enjoying the sun on The Catio.
No more explicit death details, just grief and sadness:
I was panicking, crying hysterically, trying to find a suitable box to put him in - because that’s what you do right? What's the next step? What else do you do??
I looked at Hannah, sitting on the couch, cuddling our baby and weeping; I realized I needed to pull myself together and be the strong one. I needed to take charge of the situation and handle logistics so she could fall apart. She’s always the strong one for me, this was a time she needed support. I calmed myself down enough to still feel my emotions but to no longer be overwhelmed by them. This was go time, I could fall apart later.
We laid him on the couch, held each other, and wept.
We’d heard that you need to give the other pets the opportunity to process death, we were especially worried about its impact on Murray, Eddie’s brother. I don’t know if we have a bunch of empathetic bastards or if they experience death differently, but it seemed like the others couldn’t give less of a shit. We brought Beanie over and she was miffed about being moved so she took one look and a quick sniff at Eddie and then fucked off. Zelda had been hanging around the whole time so she was already more aware of the situation than the others, she looked sad and anxious - but that’s her default state so it’s hard to gauge if she was reacting or not. Murray sniffed at Eddie a couple of times and then wandered off to his favorite bed in the house, where I had just disturbed him from his nap. So it seems like it was business as usual in the Bloom House on the animal side of things.
We’d been so on top of the recycling lately that the only box we had in the house that could fit him would be a big Ritz cracker box on its side. I liked the joke of him “Staying at the Ritz” but it wasn’t suitable in any other way. We found a small rainbow bag we bought from Ikea and placed him gently in it, curled up as he would if he was napping (he had 2 nap modes - curled up and compact, or melty cheese man stretched out as far as possible).
We kept him in the freezer overnight. Our baby, curled up in the rainbow bag. Cold.
There were a few times when my grief was overwhelming that I would open the freezer and pet his dumb little head, just to feel his fur again. Knowing it would soon be the last time. I could judge myself as weird for doing so, but it brought me comfort to know he was still there.
We had no idea what to do with his body, obviously we needed to figure out some kind of arrangement, we live in an apartment complex so it wasn’t like we could just bury him on the property. I searched and found a process I’d never heard of called Aquamation, it breaks the body down similar to cremation, but using a water solution instead. Surprisingly we found a place locally that provides the service. They came and picked up Eddie on Tuesday afternoon, they said it would take about a week and they would return his cremains in a bamboo urn, and that they do laser etch scans of paws and noses as a memento. I think I signed up for some other memorial things, I don’t remember.
Once the logistics part was taken care of, and Eddie was taken away, I properly fell apart. I’ve never cried as much as I have over the past few days.
Hannah shared the quote “Grief is love with nowhere to go” with me, and very wisely said that she was going to use her grief and that love that she has for Eddie that she can’t give to him any more and give it to our other pets. Make sure she maintains a connection with them and makes them feel as loved as possible. Brilliant advice that I’ve taken to heart. The other pets thought they were loved before, I think we’ve been positively annoying them with the amount of attention we’ve given them over the past couple of days. We set up a half cat tower between our desks at perfect petting height, Murray had the best night getting scritches while we played games. He’s also been slowing down, he’s getting absolutely smothered with love for the rest of his life.
We’ve been working through our grief as healthily as we can, we’re making sure to talk about feelings whenever they come up, happy memories about our silly boy. Looking at photos rather than hiding them. We’re planning on painting our favorite photos of him together as a way of externalizing our grief and love. It’ll be nice to have reminders of him on the wall. Writing this all out has helped me too. It’s no longer living in me, furled and festering. Thank you for reading this, I appreciate you being part of my healing process and for helping keep the memory of Eddie alive.
Hannah and I have learned how to work through our grief rather than compartmentalizing it and hiding it from ourselves. We don’t confront it, we welcome it as a friend and listen to it. It tells a devastatingly sad story, but it’s the kind of story that makes you feel alive after hearing it. More motivated to live and love fully. That’s all we can hope for with our limited time before we become stories ourselves.
I want to finish off by sharing some of the things I loved about Eddie
He had the scratchiest, worst meow. I loved it so much. If you remember those plastic tube toys that you turn over and it makes an awful “AAAAAAOOOWWWWWUUUGGHHH” noise as the noisy thingy slides through the tube (I told you this wouldn’t be eloquent!), his meow was like that but scratchier.
He also would occasionally YOWL in the middle of the night, he would sound even MORE like one of those plastic tube toys. It was equally annoying to be woken up by, and fucking hilarious.
It’s been so quiet the past few nights.
He wouldn’t drink out of a water bowl/dispenser, not even from one of those cat fountain water dispenser things. Nope, it’s gotta be from the tap. Bathroom tap specifically. If you go into the bathroom, Eddie’s coming too. It didn't matter what time of night, he’d join you for a drink. He would also meow scratchily at you until you turn the tap on, staring expectantly back and forth between you and the tap. Often, he would stick his face under the stream of water, causing it to redirect off of his fur and away from his mouth, so he’d essentially waterboard himself while failing to quench his thirst.
It’s not very effective…
He also had to have his four feet in a row as much as possible when sitting.
Look at those tucked peters! With a tail wrap flourish too? 10/10 from the judge’s table
He would occasionally stretch alllllll the way out on the cat bed/tower, like a melted cheese boy.
(To explain the etymology of most of our nicknames for him: Eddie -> Cheddie -> Cheddar -> Cheddar Gray Biscuit -> Cheese boy -> Stinky Melty Cheese Man. Also Creaky Jim.)
If you came up to him all stretched out and gave him a tummy rub, then scratched closer to under his arms, he would stick his arms straight out like a Slow Loris and romble. This earned him the nickname Christina Reach-y.
Christina Reachyyyyyyy
Fuck I miss him.
He had such a big personality and he was ever present, always by your side, always ready for a cuddle. I could just scoop him up and sit him in the crook of my elbow like a rugby ball and carry him around one handed. He’d hang on with his grippers and he’d absentmindedly start making long distance biscuits when you scratched his ears.
He also had fucked up eyes, they were approx 10° off in each direction, making it look like he was never fully looking at you, but through you. There were times he would stare intensely at a corner, prompting us to ask him “Hey if there was something there, you’d tell us… right??”.
We would joke that he’s staring into some unseen dimension that our puny minds can’t comprehend.
He would also droooooool if he was really happy and comfortable
Now he’s broken through the dimensional barrier and he’s traipsing through some parallel reality, stomping on their counters and eating the cheese off of their pizza.
Maybe when he stares off into space from there, he sees us back in this dimension.
I don’t actually believe in any afterlife, but whatever I have to believe and tell myself in order to embrace this grief, to actually feel my way THROUGH it; fantasy can bring some comfort along the way.
All I know is this: he lived the hell out of his 14 years. I’m so proud and thankful that I got to be his mum for 5 of them.
Goodbye Eddie, we’ll miss you Buddy Guy McDudeface. Stinky man. Creaky Jim.
Silly lil guy.
Thank you again for reading and for being here. This is where I’d do a full plug about my business but it really doesn’t feel right here.
I can provide support and coaching through grief, along with life transitions, etc and such… honestly, Eddie’s passing has made me feel like my work is even more important.
We have such a limited amount of time here on this planet, I want to help as many people as I can maximize their enjoyment of their time; rather than giving it all up for others wants and needs.
What I will say is if you’re dealing with grief yourself, you are not alone. I have a free online support community on discord that you are welcome to join and be with like-minded people.
Take care, and cherish your pets. Give them an extra head smooch and hold them close.
