I had a conversation with Cera today that just had me break down and cry. It was about her kitten, who had died suddenly yesterday, and they'd made the hard decision and done what they could and when they couldn't, they let her go. She was buried in their back yard, resting peacefully with catnip; and Cera had been comforted by the thought of her cat soul would be around. She had then been struck by doubts and asked me what happened to cat souls.
I replied that I couldn't imagine a God that wouldn't love Fezzik. I mean, I can imagine that I wouldn't get into Heaven. I've fucked up a lot and chosen things I probably shouldn't have. I'm mean, I'm spiteful, and I complain a lot and I'm not always good to others. Fezzik and Michiru have never done any of that. Cats and dogs are faithful, loving, and create love nearly wherever they go, and especially the beloved pet that engenders love is something I couldn't see God ignoring or casting out or throwing away. If He kept any souls at all, they would seem to be the first. Cera thought about it and said that it made sense, He'd made them first.
She was comforted by that.
I was deeply reminded of the morning when I woke up and asked God to take care of Fezzik when he died, as Fezzik was good in all the best ways.
And so I cried.
I have odd emotions, all mixed together. I have a little, tiny, bad and sad voice of envy for Cera's decision having to be as clean and sharp as it was, as the kitten's deterioration was so quick at the end. Fezzik is going so slowly, and he's so cheerful even as it happens, that it seems a shame to end things. I have an important guideline in that I know the two things he still has to be able to do before he ever really has to go, which are him enjoying eating, and that he can get up and do the things he really wants to do, be they getting up to go bark at the neighbor's kids riding their dirt bikes or chew his bone outside. But it's looking more and more grey as day by day I see him losing just a little more, and being just a little less.
But I'm also very glad of the time that I've had with him since the diagnosis, and even in the last few months. He got his 12th birthday in, and he really enjoyed the party. He's had a lot of good days since April, so it's been worth a lot. I am very, very grateful for that. I know the envy is a very awful thing as it would have meant that I didn't get this time, and time even with a deteriorating Fezzik is better than him simply being gone.
It's also useful knowing that we did everything we could do, that we have no regrets for not ever noticing, or not ever finding out until after he was dead already. But that's more a rational than a reason, perhaps. I'll be sad when he goes, I'll miss him like crazy. I just should enjoy him while I don't miss him, and it's selfish and wrong in many ways to wish he'd go quick when there are things we can do, maybe, to make his life a little happier a little longer.
But he really is looking so tired and sad, today.