we lost our cat, bandit, today. it was awful. for the last week he fought a virus that he contracted from a live vaccination.
he came to us sick. we didn't know it but thankfully realized something was wrong before it was too late. he underwent major surgery, took awhile to heal, got to wear a cone and finally emerged
healthy and carefree. the vet believed he was fine to
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| two cats and a cone. |
have the vaccine...
originally, we got bandit as a playmate for reshma, since she's a psycho kitten and needed a friend to calm her down. one of my students rescued him, but couldn't keep him at her house. from the minute he arrived, he was the calming force to reshma's crazy. he was the most laid-back, easy-going, happy kitten i've ever met. he was perfect for our house.
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| bandit & ray were made for each other. |
but he was only with us for two months. and i've only learned to love cats in the last few years of my life. so why did i weep so much today? loss is awful, yes. and watching something helpless suffer is horrid.
but i finally realized there was a lot more on that cat
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| playing in the sunshine. |
than just sickness. there's been a lot of death recently. two of my dear friends just lost husbands suddenly. another lost her dad and ray lost his grandma. the tragedy in the philippines weighs heavily on all of us. so today when bandit died, i cried over all the loss. all the events that don't make sense and catch us by surprise and hurt. when we brought the little cardboard box home and dug a hole and buried bandit, we felt the sorrow of billions of souls for those minutes.
a little life can represent so much more than what it is. it can stand for loss...but before today it stood for innocent joy that i don't deserve but was grateful for at the end of the day. it reminded me that there is always sunshine with the shadows. thank you calm, sweet, quiet bandit, for that reminder.
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| bandit. |
