It’s forever Caturday


Yesterday evening, we said goodbye to our beloved kitten companion of 17 years Zoe Ann Witteveen Serafini.

She died at exactly 6:30 p.m. February 4, 2017.

The hurt from this loss stands alone as a pain I hate more and more with every passing second.

Zoe has been sick for a long time, probably longer than we could ever understand. She started yowling at night at least two years ago. And for a while, we thought it was her being a big jerk. And over time, I came to the conclusion that she was actually in pain. She wouldn’t want to tell us about the pain, but I thinks she went deaf as well. And she probably didn’t realize how loud her calls were.

We live in an apartment of six units, and I’m sure there were hours of her cries when our neighbors below and next to us had to have heard her.

Tina and I had started living with it, accommodating it the best we could. We thought she was craving water, so we left water bowls every where. When we heard water fountains are good for this kind of thing, we bought one. We often left toilet seats up (I know, gross), and water dripping in a couple different sinks.

Making the decision to euthanize her practically killed our spirits. Surely we could have lived with the night screaming and her strained breathing a little longer?

But the consensus is that it’s better to help her go while she’s still standing a little than when she can no longer function well. And that’s the only glimmer of hope we have that we did the right thing.

It’s been a particularly painful week of intermittent crying spells due to a strained family situation that I finally had to conclude was hurting me more than I could bear. I decided years ago that there were members of my family that cared more about hurting me than trying to have a relationship that didn’t include sadistic heapings of disturbing infliction of pain. It became torturelike. And no amount of discussion solved the problem.

I’ve been having nightmares, terrors and sleep paralysis for years. There comes a point when crying in private must stop.

One can only take so much stabbing before they need hospitalization.

There’s a dark cloud around these parts. I hate it.

Hate. it. so. much.