ollie
ollie, originally uploaded by Veeeyloova.
I think that the universe has decided that it hates me, and has embarked upon a campaign to systematically break my heart, spirit and bank account.
Bad, bad, bad things keep happening, and I don’t know why.
Yesterday, Ollie, the best boycat, was hit by a car and died. We found him probably within moments of the accident; his furry little body was still warm. So warm that despite the absence of breath, I felt a glimmer of hope that he wasn’t really dead. I took off my sweater, picked him up off the road, and cradled him like an infant. I held him for a long while, talking to him and crying. Rick was, and is, devastated. I remember him wailing, keening, with the loss.
Ollie was four. We rescued him three years ago from a hellish shelter. He was so traumatized already, by the shelter, and the abuse that he lived through before the shelter, that he lived in constant fear. We brought him home and spent the past three years working with him, slowly earning his trust. He wouldn’t let us so much as touch him for over a year. But just recently, he seemed to have let his fear go. He began snuggling with us, meowing for attention and generally being a lovebug. Just four nights ago, Ollie lay in Rick’s lap and fell asleep, which was such a huge milestone that rick described it as being ‘magical’. We were all astonished at the change.
We knew that letting our cats out of the house posed a risk to their lives. We make this decision believing that letting a cat be a cat was worth the risk, letting it roam in the woods and sleep in the sun, would make the animal happier and healthier. We believe that a happy cat at risk is better than an unhappy cat who gets to live unhappily for 15 years. We knew it when Loki ran away, when she came back, and even know, in my heartbreak and sadness, I know it’s true. As sick as I am at what happened, as weepy as I get when I recall the moment that I saw him lying in the road, I still believe it. But this morning, when I let the other boys out (the two boys who spent the day locked safely in the house, and who were VERY crabby when we got home last night), I felt an anxiety that I haven’t felt before. And I wonder if my certainty is so certain. What is more tortuous? Making a cat who wants to go out stay inside looking out the window and being inactive it's whole life? Or letting the cat out, and taking the risk that something (a car, an animal) might end its life short.
Anyway.
So, in four months I've had a miscarriage, incurred a massively huge debt due to a totally unforeseeable problem with the house, and now this. I’m am TRYING to keep my chin up, to see the value in the little interactions that I am involved with on a daily basis and to focus on the POSITIVE, but I can’t seem to find anything positive. I feel like I keep getting punched in the gut, and when I finally catch my breath to stand upright again, I get sucker punched from somewhere else. I don’t believe in the ‘everything happens for a reason’ crap. And religion isn’t a part of my life. I don’t believe in god. While Buddhist/Taoist philosophy will give me the tools to help me intellectually, I’m not involved with either one deeply enough to feel the emotional connection that I need to heal my heart.