Everyday Bliss For Women In Leadership

Last night I had to euthanize my oldest and dearest friend, my 16 year old female brown classic Maine Coon kitty “The Biscuit”. I find it strange yet perfectly fitting that she should choose to exit on the last day of February in a leap year. She had been born in a leap year too - 1988. A beautiful, magickal, wonderful kitty. After a mercifully short illness that began on Friday afternoon and came to a close Sunday at 7pm, her kidneys went into terminal failure. I tried to make her comfortable at home with a heating pad and her favorite red blanket from my childhood home in the big armchair where she held court. It was no good though, she hadn’t eaten or eliminated in 24 hours - we had to take her to the vet. I made the carrier as cushy as I could with a double foam pad topped by the pink flannel blanket that comforted my mother in her last days. J-Bear held her inside the carrier, covered the sides with a thick towel to keep drafts off of her, and placed it gently inside the car. Driving up to Adobe Animal Hospital in Los Altos, the sun shone warm upon her face and her beautiful amber eyes closed with pleasure in a last, brief respite from her pain.

The Bix had a long and mostly good life. My ex and I rescued her from a bad situation with an abusive neighbor across the street from us thirteen years ago. From that period she retained a suspicion of strangers, but once she knew a person, would love and trust them unreservedly. When my ex and I parted ways and I remarried, The Biscuit came to live in a new house with two new kitties she was pleased as punch to queen over, and together they formed a loose but distantly affectionate little tribe. She was infected with FIV (the kitty version of HIV) but was never sick from it. A bite from the neighborhood bullycat that gave her the disease was deep in her right thigh though, and she never quite recovered good usage of that hip. It contributed to her having arthritis that increased with time until her entire hindquarters were a hotbed of sensitivity and pain in the last couple of years. Only Reiki and surrogate EFT were helpful, and not that much in the end.

Dr. Peter Hill was the kindest, sweetest person to have oversee this difficult time. His eyes were nearly as red as ours and he was having equal difficulty speaking as we were. He and other doctors at Adobe had treated The Biscuit since she lived across the way from my ex and I. Dr. Hill in particular loved her and it grieved him to see her in pain as much it did us. He outlined the whole procedure for us every step of the way and gave us time to get adjusted to each step before he went ahead. He must have apologised for how difficult this was being on us at least three times. Like it was his fault. But he calmly and bravely administered The Biscuit’s deliverance from pain and this life. Little was said, except by me, to The Biscuit. She was alert though drowsy during the procedure, we had adequate time to say all there was to say, to pet and love her, and the euthanasia took only seconds, for which I am intensely grateful. She simply went to sleep for the very last time as I skritched the sweet spot behind her ears and told her what a good and sweet girl she was and how very much we loved her. Through tears. Mine and the Bear’s…who was every bit as cut up as I was…

:::more:::

When my parents passed beyond, there was nothing left unsaid, it had all been said, done, finished and grieved intensively long before their actual deaths. With the Biscuit, things occurred very swiftly. She and I have been though a lot together that no one else in the universe would understand. The Biscuit is a large part of what got me back on my feet after my broken back, surgery and paralysis in the early 90’s, and I wouldn’t have made it through the disaster of my first marriage sane without her. In less than a month, my spirit father and mentor, d. deLarm, and my best friend and spiritual partner, The Biscuit, have made their transitions. And our dear friend Danaya this past August. So many dear ones going out of my life. There’s a greater message in this, somewhere. I am detatching more and more which is a good thing, as from this vantage point I can understand that there is message…but not quite what it is yet. I feel numb.

It’s therapeutic for me to write about this but a bit hard to type as one of the things The Biscuit did while we were having her checked out at the vet’s was bite nearly clear through my little finger. Poor kitty, she didn’t know what she was doing at that point; the vet had palpated her poor swollen kidneys and made her yelp. I don’t blame her a bit, I’d have done the same thing. (yes, I’ve been seen at the ER and am taking appropriate precautions). It’s a deep puncture, I’ll wear her mark for life. Reminds me of the Lucinda Williams song: “pierce the skin, and the blood runs through, you left your mark on me, it’s permanent - a tattoo.” In more ways than just a fanged pinky, sweet kitty, in many more ways than this. The Biscuit was my little kitty therapist: she taught me kitty yoga and did my physical therapy with me. She was also my spiritual partner, she travelled far with me on many different journies, so faithfully, so uncomplainingly even when they were rough. And all she ever asked for in return was plenty of love, and to open a “Ca-aan!” which she requested by name. She also taught me the word “Leee-OVE!” (Love) in kittyspeak and used it frequently. She gave whatever she could gratefully, be it companionship in some very rough and dark places, a lick, purr or a snuggle-up hug to show her love and appreciation. She is so very far above the status of just “companion animal” in my life. She was my sister, my best friend, my little kitty mentor and my child all rolled up into one. There simply aren’t words for what I feel for her…and will always feel for her….

May the wiskered Goddesses Bast and Sekhmet receive you gently sweet Bix, may Freyja make you a good and comfort-filled home with lots of mice to chase, unlimited skritches and love. In the five hours after her physical transition I saw the Biscuit looking as she did at age five, tearing joyfully through a field of daisies, in hot pursuit of a bright golden butterfly. I saw her lounging on a soft pillow, bowls of her favorite turkey and giblets and of thick cream within paw’s reach. I asked to see her as she is now, and that’s what was shown to me. Perhaps it is wishful thinking, perhaps it is her true reward. If the latter, she deserves all that and much more. I hope she runs free in the sunshine and is happy in the Isle of Apples with plenty of love and skritches from d., from Danaya, from my Mom and Dad, and from others who knew and loved her that have gone on before. I’m glad that the sun was on her face during her last ride in the car and that she was present enough to enjoy it. I’m so grateful that she chose to share her life with me. I have from our very long companionship gained so very many gifts and blessings. I give thanks for The Biscuit’s life. I give thanks for my own. Blessings to all…

This entry was posted on Monday, March 1st, 2004 at 11:11 am and is filed under Day In The Life, Practical Magic, Wonderful People, Current Affairs, Travel. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.