It is with a heavy heart that I write this post. My beloved, 14 year old kitty, Jasper has died. I am still reeling. Three weeks ago, I thought he was healthy and well. I was hoping he would live to be 20.
That’s when it started. Little drops of blood here and there. I thought it was a boo-boo. Then, when the drops were getting more consistent, I thought he had a bad tooth. I did my best herbal magic to save the tooth and to keep it from getting infected.
When he threw up blood, I knew we weren’t dealing with a tooth. He had low platletes and almost no white blood cells. That told me he probably had leukemia or something equally fatal. He went downhill quickly and left the planet 3 days after.
During my grieving time, I have had a lot to ponder. I found that vets (and Doctors) make us feel we need to do everything possible to control the situation and to “know” what’s going on. For $200. we can do a test to find out which disease is causing him to have no white blood cells. Why? Why do I need to know which fatal disease is killing him? Why do I need to have meds to bring him back from the brink of death, so he can live a low quality life for a little while longer?
It seems since Western medicine can know the why of so many things and can continue to treat symptoms and keep people and pets alive, that we are made to feel guilty if we opt for less control over the situation. Or we are made to feel stupid if we want to try alternative methods and perhaps we think unconventionally.
I also find it amazing that we are considered cruel if we don’t put a pet to sleep, but it would be murder if we helped a human loved one along. A loved one that can talk to us and tell us what they want, mind you.
Everyone is so different and we come from so many life experiences and back grounds. It really is an individual thing. I wish that people would be more compassionate and less judgemental. I also wish people weren’t so awkward and uncomfortable around sickness and death. Even the word awkward looks awkward… did I misspell it??
I believe in reincarnation and life after death, so I think I have a nice belief to hold onto and comfort me. I feel peace knowing that a soul lives on after the death of the body.
I had the most amazing experience. I had a “shamanic dream” and I saw the days unfolding towards Jasper’s death through his eyes. I felt his spaced out delusions from being dehydrated. I saw me come into his view, every now and again to check on him and try to make him comfortable. To clean him. To cry my eyes out. To grieve.
I saw his brother kitty, JonnyCat that we lost years ago, come to take him home. I felt JonnyCat’s breath catch when he saw me and got home sick for a moment, missing me, his Earth Momma. I saw Jasper and JonnyCat watching Michael dig Jasper’s grave. I saw Jasper and JonnyCat have an exciting reunion. They loved each other so much.
What was that? Was it real? Was it a dream? I don’t know. What I do know, is it gave me a lot of comfort. Sure, I am going to cry some more. Crying isn’t for sissies. It’s hard work to process loss and death. Crying is looking at your soul, face to face. Crying is feeling deep and knowing you will get through to the other side. Eventually, in it’s own time.
I think our pets live shorter lives than us so that they can teach us about unconditional love, loss and death. I have had a lot of practice. These babies give so much love, that is why it hurts so bad when they are gone. They fill our hearts with pleasure and love. They teach us one at a time, so when we loose our human families we will have had some practice. They come into this world with one goal: To love us.
Love & Light to you, Jasper. Thank you for all the JOY we had while you were with us. ♥