(no subject)
I buried my cat today.
Her name was Inanna.
It may not sound like a big deal to some, but she was important to me.
She wasn't a person as I know it. She wasn't utlanning, but she was ramen, not varelse. If you don't get the reference don't worry about it. She wasn't a person like a human, but she was something concious enough to have social interactions. She was concious enough to sit my my sickbed when I was ill, and never leave my side for a WEEK except to tend to her body's needs.
When I lived alone she met me at the door, and wanted attention more than food.
She was my friend.
I don't know what I was to HER. Probably a weird giant cat. But to me she was my friend.
Some people don't like cats, but most people understand dogs as friends, so if you don't get it, then "she was like a dog to me"
I wasn't able to get home in time. But she didn't die alone. She died in Andrea's arms. Elijah, our son, got to pet her and say goodbye.
When I got home, Andrea handed me the body.
I held her. I petted her. I missed her.
There used to be... not a thing, but maybe not a person? There was something that could feel and think a little bit at least. I loved her. She... did something that I would at least translate into human terms as loving me. She didn't just want attention. When I was ill or very sad she sought me out, and comforted me.
I don't believe in souls, but there was a mind there. A simple one. If a human mind is a blazing fire she was just a candle. But there was something there, burning, with me.
Now there are about 12 pounds of meat in a hole in the ground.
Even though I don't think there is any HER left, we buried her body with her favourite toys, a tin of tuna, some catnip, and her insulin. All things that made her feel good. Because she could FEEL THINGS DAMMIT. She may not have thought a single thing that I could recognize as a thought in her live, but she FELT things. And I felt things. She can't appreciate that 12 pounds of meat is in the ground with some cat toys and stuff, but I can, and my family can, so we did it anyway. Things like that are for US, not for the dead.
She won't anymore.
Funny thing... I found what seemed like the best place to bury her. To my surprise, I dug up part of a can. Then some honest to got pot sherds. Then a bone.
I'll save you the long story. I didn't find a body, but I found the remains of two dishes (mid to early 20th century, based on the decoration and glazing) several cans (I'd guess about 50 or so years of rusting and degrading) and several bottles.
The bone seemed to be a long bone from a pig or a similar animal. Probably a femur.
I am a huge archerology buff, and breifly it turned into an archeological dig as I tried to see what I had dug up, in a careful, systematic way. I had a trowel, a finds tray, and everything. It was... kind of awesome, and just what I needed.
My conclusion: I think someone buried... not their dog, but their dogs things, there. A new, unchewed bone, two shallow dishes, several tins of food, and a milk bottle.
We put the finds in a bag and put them back in the hole. They meant something to someone, just like Inanna's body and her stuff means something to us.
This is too long already, so I won't make it too much longer. I lost a little friend, a little, if not thinking, then feeling friend.
I'll be ok. But I needed to write this. Thank you for reading it.
Her name was Inanna.
It may not sound like a big deal to some, but she was important to me.
She wasn't a person as I know it. She wasn't utlanning, but she was ramen, not varelse. If you don't get the reference don't worry about it. She wasn't a person like a human, but she was something concious enough to have social interactions. She was concious enough to sit my my sickbed when I was ill, and never leave my side for a WEEK except to tend to her body's needs.
When I lived alone she met me at the door, and wanted attention more than food.
She was my friend.
I don't know what I was to HER. Probably a weird giant cat. But to me she was my friend.
Some people don't like cats, but most people understand dogs as friends, so if you don't get it, then "she was like a dog to me"
I wasn't able to get home in time. But she didn't die alone. She died in Andrea's arms. Elijah, our son, got to pet her and say goodbye.
When I got home, Andrea handed me the body.
I held her. I petted her. I missed her.
There used to be... not a thing, but maybe not a person? There was something that could feel and think a little bit at least. I loved her. She... did something that I would at least translate into human terms as loving me. She didn't just want attention. When I was ill or very sad she sought me out, and comforted me.
I don't believe in souls, but there was a mind there. A simple one. If a human mind is a blazing fire she was just a candle. But there was something there, burning, with me.
Now there are about 12 pounds of meat in a hole in the ground.
Even though I don't think there is any HER left, we buried her body with her favourite toys, a tin of tuna, some catnip, and her insulin. All things that made her feel good. Because she could FEEL THINGS DAMMIT. She may not have thought a single thing that I could recognize as a thought in her live, but she FELT things. And I felt things. She can't appreciate that 12 pounds of meat is in the ground with some cat toys and stuff, but I can, and my family can, so we did it anyway. Things like that are for US, not for the dead.
She won't anymore.
Funny thing... I found what seemed like the best place to bury her. To my surprise, I dug up part of a can. Then some honest to got pot sherds. Then a bone.
I'll save you the long story. I didn't find a body, but I found the remains of two dishes (mid to early 20th century, based on the decoration and glazing) several cans (I'd guess about 50 or so years of rusting and degrading) and several bottles.
The bone seemed to be a long bone from a pig or a similar animal. Probably a femur.
I am a huge archerology buff, and breifly it turned into an archeological dig as I tried to see what I had dug up, in a careful, systematic way. I had a trowel, a finds tray, and everything. It was... kind of awesome, and just what I needed.
My conclusion: I think someone buried... not their dog, but their dogs things, there. A new, unchewed bone, two shallow dishes, several tins of food, and a milk bottle.
We put the finds in a bag and put them back in the hole. They meant something to someone, just like Inanna's body and her stuff means something to us.
This is too long already, so I won't make it too much longer. I lost a little friend, a little, if not thinking, then feeling friend.
I'll be ok. But I needed to write this. Thank you for reading it.