Sassy: All About Love

Winter garden

2008-11-26T15:19:00.004-05:00

We recently picked the last blue daisies from Sassy's garden and helped the garden "go to rest" for winter. This included digging up the dahlia bulbs for storage (a new concept for me - so hopefully they will make it through winter), amending the soil in that part of the garden, and putting mulch over the whole thing to finalize for winter. So what remains are two lovely lavender bushes, the ceramic duck and a ceramic pink flower, all in the heart-shaped garden with Sassy's memorial stone.

I thought I would be sad at the changing of the season (and a part of me is eternally sad at the loss of Sassy), yet there was something comforting about tidying up her garden and letting it rest for winter. It reminds me of the end of her life here with us -- she was so tired and ill; intermingled with the raw grief of parting ways, there was a warm comfort in knowing she could rest now free of disease and suffering.

I've read a lot on the Lymphoma Loss group recently of individuals who have recently lost their beloved furry baby. Reading these posts reminds me of how painful it is to say goodbye. It also renews my love and my remembering of Sassy through thought, writing and of course, her garden. Our time together was too short yet there is definitely a timelessness of our love.

Happy birthday Sassy!

2008-09-01T21:21:00.002-04:00

Happy 7th Birthday to Sassy! Tim and I acknowledged what would have been Sassy's 7th birthday today by looking through her scrapbook. Although so much healing has happened since she died last year, and we know she's in a better place, there will always be I guess a sadness in missing her, our beloved special girl.

Tim didn't know her when she was a kitten and so it was fun to revisit photos of her the size of a muffin following Grayson everywhere. She definitely was THE emblem of love if ever there was one, and continues to be that emblem.

Dedication

2008-06-29T19:50:00.005-04:00

Sassy's heart-shaped memorial garden is complete and we had a silent dedication ceremony at sunset tonight. The two kittens who remind me most of her, Jacques and Emma, frolicked and cuddled around us as we remembered Sassy. One year ago tonight/tomorrow morning, Sassy left us to go onward in her journey (she died somewhere in the middle of the night with Tim, Grayson and I sleeping next to her). Seeing the abundance of flowers, in all their brilliance, glory, and beauty reflects all her best qualities infinitely. She is my soul mate. I love you Sassy and miss you deeply. I hold you in my heart every single day.

Remembering Sassy

2008-03-31T22:19:00.003-04:00

We just ordered an engraved river stone, with this image, from Old World Stones. This will go in Sassy's memorial garden. Ground has been broken on the garden as of this past weekend and flowers have been planted. I'll post pictures soon. Her garden includes dahlias, lavender, and other colorful flowers. We also hope to add a little bird bath since she loved saying hello to her bird friends (unlike the hunter Grayson, Sassy would gallop towards the birds and then wonder why they all flew away).

I tried to push myself to do these things 8 or 9 months ago when she had just died and I couldn't. I'm shown once again how grieving takes its own path and is a never-ending process. I had the energy and focus these past 2 weeks to really pour my heart into sweet Sassy's memory.

Surprises

2008-01-28T18:37:00.001-05:00

I developed a roll of film last week that I thought were shots of the kittens. I usually use a digital camera but occasionally still use my 35mm Minolta to capture fast action, since kittens do move quite quickly.

I went to pick up the photos and opened the package while my husband was getting a prescription filled. I almost fell over. It was an entire roll of film shot of Sassy 2 years go that I had never gotten developed.

At first, the photos just shook my grief, like someone shaking a tree. It took stable ground out from under me. But then I looked at the photos more carefully and just basked in the beauty and that special connection that Sassy and I share. This was a very wonderful gift to receive, long after she was physically gone.

Living on

2008-01-28T18:21:00.000-05:00

My grief has been dormant, just like the winter invites so many things to go dormant, at least for a while. The kittens - Jacques, Emma, and Sydney (Baby Bear has a proper name now) are 8 pound whoppers suddenly. Their baby days seemed to have passed so quickly. Despite their growing size, they are still babies though and always will be. Still, daily memories of Sassy persist, many of them happy. Lately though, I have been remembering her diagnosis and the progression of her illness. I just wish I could go back in time and be there for her even more. It's odd to wish for this because as my husband points out, we really did try our best the first time around. What I long for truly I guess is to sit next to her again, and pet her beautiful fur, and to bring her comfort. We shared a special connection. I notice more and more though that that connection lives on, in my heart and just in general of course, but also it seems to live on in Jacques. I feel like Sassy sent him to me to carry on, to live on. The way he looks and some of his mannerisms are the same, and particularly his gentle spirit seems to emulate Sassy's. This is a huge comfort and a huge connection, as I continue to learn more and live on.

New life

2007-11-02T16:43:00.000-04:00

Right after my birthday in July, I went to the SPCA here in town to put in some volunteer time visiting the kittens and cats in the Healthy Hold area of the shelter. I remember not wanting to go (volunteering had actually started overwhelming me and depressing me a bit - so many homeless cats, all desperate to leave the shelter). My husband told me not to go then if I didn't feel up to it. But something told me to go, if just for a little while. It was August 3.

While in the healthy hold visiting some cats in the cages on the upper level, I heard a "Meep. Meep!" and I looked down to see a small pair of bright blue eyes looking up at me. I opened her cage and picked her up She was 3 weeks old and probably weighed less than 1 pound. What a true bundle of love, vibrating with the glow of new life. She quietly let me hold her. She was there with 5 siblings.

I went on vacation for a week after that and then went to see the kittens upon returning. They weren't there!
I soon found out that they were transferred to a foster home due to their small size. I got a call from Foster Mom Barbara who has become my new BFF on all things Kitty related.

Three kittens died from the litter - 2 rather suddenly and the 3rd from health complications. We soon found ourselves fostering the remaining 3. My darling "girl" is a boy -- Jacques, and he has 2 siblings: Emma and " Baby Bear." Barbara named Baby Bear and we've grown so accustomed to calling him that; no other name has stuck.

So after all these months of sadness without my Sassy, she seems to have sent 3 furry new friends to keep me company (Yes, we are keeping all 3 - much to my husband's dismay -- though I secretly think the 3rd one is growing on him).

I enjoy their youth, curiousty, optimism, and outrageously transparent, abundant, and huge love. In many ways, they have saved my life just like Sassy did when I first met her kitten-self. I often feel that I am missing something - some thing that will connect me better to the ebb and flow of life, to others, to the present moment, to some greater love. In many ways, I think we all do. Cats and kittens are masters of emulating this positivity, this acceptance of the present moment.

Just yesterday I was so sad still about Sassy; how much I miss her so much. And then a kitten (or two...or three....) came trapsing and tumbling across my path to offer headbutts and hugs and fuzzy touches of love, reminders that said "I'm here. Now."

Unhealed wounds

2007-10-05T08:44:00.000-04:00

Time does not heal,
It makes a half-stitched scar
That can be broken and again you feel
Grief as total as in its first hour.

-Elizabeth Jennings

After having some good days recently - days where I remember all the happy times with Sassy - I experienced some raw grief again. Knowing how much I love Sassy, although these moments are painful, I also encourge myself to fully experience them. They help me to get in touch with the depth of our relationship and the impact this small girl had on me, and the world really. And believe me, though she was small, the impact was not so small. It was a giant.

The quote by Elizabeth Jennings is powerful to me because it really does capture the experience of a deep grief. Time does smooth over wounds - it stitches them up and you move on. Then those stitches break or come loose, and you are back to the original wound. I really don't think the wound ever heals. And should it? We look at being wounded as a bad thing, something to be overcome. But I'm not so sure about that. Sure, I try to go on with my life, and continue to find love and joy in the world.....but to me grieving -- that sobbing, gut wrenching earthquake at the bottom of my soul -- is the witness that she was here, she is here eternally, and we loved fiercely, uniquely, and with such deep bonds.

Happy birthday Sassy!

2007-09-01T20:28:00.000-04:00

Happy birthday Sassy Davis! Today Sassy would have been 6 years old. She lost her battle with cancer 2 months shy of her 6th birthday. She left us way too young. Tim and I had a memorial for Sassy today. We looked through the scrapbook I put together, and remembered what a sweet, loving member of our family Sassy was -- and always will be.

It's interesting how our natural human tendency is to hold on to everything - to want to hold on to loved ones, moments, relationships, and dear life. This fierce sense of attachment causes great heartache because of course, nothing is permanent, nothing is everlasting.

I remember holding onto Sassy throughout her illness. And then I would check in with my support group (the Feline Lymphoma group) and kind members would remind me that I can only but take one day at a time. This would help me and I would try to detach from 'holding onto the unknown future" and be present with Sassy. I would watch her rest, show her love, and just be with her.

I also remember the last night - when I could tell she was dying. We somehow think we are not capable of coping with these moments in life, and yet - in my experience at least - we somehow rise to the occasion and pull it together. I know I *wanted* to hold onto her. I didn't want to let her go. At the same time, I knew she had to go, that she indeed wanted to go and leave her dis-eased body. I told her I loved her and I sat there with her all night, until she left in the wee hours after squeezing my hand 3 times.

I still miss her today. I think I will miss her everyday. At least now that some time has passed, it doesn't feel like a suffocating unbearable weight. Rather, I have enough space to remember the joy and love Sassy brought and continues to bring through her memory. I guess that place of joy is the 'middle ground' or state of groundlessness that Buddhist author Pema Chodron talks about so often. No clinging, no attachment, just pure experiential joy and present-ness. It's a beautiful place - yet so hard to float there without starting to tailspin and grasp for the ground. I guess I'll keep trying.

xoxo to Sassy the lovebug!

"They are only animals."

2007-08-26T12:00:00.000-04:00

I find it very interesting when people make the remark "It's only an animal." Luckily, no one has dared say this to my face about Sassy's cancer treatment, but I know this thought circulates out there quite freely not only about animal oncology but also in regard to people making 'too much' of a connection with their pet or animal companion. Somehow, the dominant paradigm in our culture is that animals are of lesser value than humans.

Of course, the extreme demonstration of this paradigm is exemplified in the Vick dogfighting case that recently broke in the news. The dogs in his dogfighting compound were so inhumanely conditioned in hatred, anger, and aggression, that all fifty of them will be euthanized by the Humane Society because there is little hope of their rehabilitation.

Another example of our devaluation of animals is the mainstream meat industry in America where chickens are crammed in cages so tight that they can't move and slowly go insane. Their beaks are sometimes cut off so as to stop them from damaging themselves or others in such constricted, insanity-producing conditions. I am not a PETA-card-carrying vegan by any means - I do eat animal protein and am grateful for the sustenance provided. However, I do think the Vick case and the extremes in the meat industry, reveal a very dark place in the capacity of humans to be quite frankly, very inhumane.

There is a very slippery slope from the statement "it's only an animal" to the extreme cases cited above.

So when people make remarks that "it's only an animal," or "why would you treat a cat for cancer?!!" I encourage them to examine their own psyche, and the value system that comes behind making such a statement. In my view, if you cannot show love and respect to a beautiful, innocent (and perfect - animals live in the present moment always and don't carry the emotional baggage, resentments, and so forth that humans carry) animal, then what does that say about your ability to love other humans and even yourself? Animals are so perceptive, loving, and unconditional in that love. They truly teach us every day what it means to live in the present moment and to cherish life.

Respecting animals and caring for their well-being is a starting point for a greater humanity. Rather than a sign of weakness or shortcoming, it is a sign of revery, compassion, and strength. What furry friend will you show love towards today?

Some objectivity

2007-08-26T11:48:00.000-04:00

In making Sassy's scrapbook, I recently came upon a digital photo of her days before she died. I am not even sure why we took a photo of her, as we had come to pretty much give her "her space" in those last days. With so many happy memories recently, I was horrified to see this photo of her:

This is what my girl looked like after having cancer ravage her body for 3-4 short months. This is what she looked like after successful remission and relapse from cancer. It may not seem that obvious to someone who hasn't met her (or who knows, maybe it is even more obvious: I admit that being embedded in a situation so fiercely makes you lose your objectivity), but now that I look at this picture a few months later, I can see how ill she is. She weighed 8 pounds when she died. 12-16 weeks previous, she had weighed 16 pounds and was classified by one former vet as a "hefty little burger" in need of weight management.

I share this photo so that others can see the toll that feline lymphoma takes. I still would choose the chemotherapy treatment if I was faced with the situation again - I think there is great promise in oncology care for cats. I guess this photo reminds me of the heartbreak of losing such a model being for love to such a heartless illness like lymphoma, at such a young age.

Can a cure be found for feline lymphoma? I certainly hope so.

Joyous memories

2007-08-26T11:42:00.000-04:00

It's been a while since my last post. I took some time to stop writing about Sassy and to start remembering her more in a very joyful way. There have been tears of course intermingled with that joy, because I love my girl so much, and just miss her presence in my life. I've been hard at work on a scrapbook with her photos. Never a previous "scrapbooker," I got the idea from watching my sister-in-law over time who is an avid scrapbooker. She has gatherings of girlfriends where they scrapbook together! I think it will always be a solitary activity for me, but I have enjoyed making the one for Sassy. I've gathered ribbons, bows, colored papers, stamps, stickers, and all sorts of other supplies, sorted through dozens and dozens of photos, and made theme pages, put quotes on them. A lot of emotion and feeling has poured into the scrapbook pages. It is a tribute to my love for a very special being. I highly recommend scrapbooking for whatever purpose. My next project will be a scrapbook for Grayson, my 8-year-old cat who continues to amaze us each day.....his most recent adventure was to get into a fight with a GROUNDHOG (he lost!!).

Lymphoma kitties and food

2007-07-29T21:34:00.000-04:00

One thing I remember most about the battle with lymphoma is the difficulty in getting your little patient to EAT.
It seemed so hard to believe that my Sassy, who was a CHUBBY 16 pounds with her petite frame pre-lymphoma, got down to 8 pounds at the end. Eating had been her passion clearly, and the illness, the tumor, had robbed her of nutrition and her desire to eat. This is one of the most heartbreaking components of lymphoma; how it robs you, it robs the patient and it robs the loved one who care for the patient.

We tried everything: fancy feast, deli meat, clams, clam juice, lots of freshlly cooked shrimp, salmon, chicken breast, chicken breast with clam juice; meats pureed in the food processor, tuna, Gold Blend cat food, gravy, 9 lives, wellness, meow mix, anything, everything that would seem somewhat appetizing. And it was usually for maybe 1 bite, maybe 10. Hills A/D was used via syringe in the last days, against her will.

There are so many great articles on getting your feline patient to eat -- see the one on the Feline Lymphoma Caregivers site and also by doing a search on Assist Feeding....

One food I found this last week is called Weruva (www.weruva.com). Grayson has LOVED this new discovery and I think a lot of lymphoma kitties may be inspired by it as well. Heck, I find that it looks appetizing (though I have restrained myself from tossing back a bite).
Try it out and tell me what you think!

Making new friends

2007-07-29T21:21:00.001-04:00

I've been out of town for the last 10 days or so, most of which I spent at my friend's house catsitting Winnie and Tigger. This was my first foray into 'cat world' post-Sassy. I was reluctant at first and even thought about canceling my trip (my visit to do a teacher training coincided with my friend's 1-week trip to see her sister in Texas). I wanted to cancel my trip for many reasons: I didn't want to leave Grayson, I didn't want to see new cats, and although the training was to be inspiring I'd heard, I quite frankly did not want to be inspired. I had successfullly insulated myself in my grief for my beautiful girl Sassy.

One thing of particular concern: Tigger and Sassy could have been first cousins or sisters, their resemblance to one another is/was so striking. The week went well though because what I discovered is that I have so much capacity for love. I still had room in my heart to hug and kiss Winnie and Tigger, to play with them, to spoil them (I bought them a new toy and gave them a little wee bit of tuna on the side -- shhhhhh. Hope my friend is not reading my blog. It got to be a problem b/c Tigger started to expect this of me and I had to undo my spoiling towards the end).

What most struck me is something I already knew to be true but somehow found all the more important once experienced: although Sassy and Tigger look alike, it was so clear to me that they are not the same. To a non-cat person I am sure there would be no difference. But to me, they were so different in personality and in subtle physical traits that I embraced Tigger and still knew my Sassy. I could pick her out from any line-up, any crowd, any moment. I knew her yesterday; I will know her tomorrow and forever really. When Sassy died, it felt like my own child had been taken from me forever. It has taken time and will continue to take time but slowly I am starting to believe that really, she will be with me forever.

Love

2007-07-17T19:42:00.000-04:00

“When all your desires are distilled, you will cast just two votes: to love more, and be happy.” - Hafiz

Today feels like a better day than this past weekend. I've heard from friends that picking up the ashes of your cat definitely counts as one of the Worst Days, so my reactions were not unfounded. The reality of the fact that she is gone seems to set in from the moment you pick up the ashes. Before that, it's easy to get lost in the mind games of wondering how she died, what could we have done, etc.

I keep trying to get past the loss and remember the joy and love Sassy brought into our lives. She definitely taught me to love, love more, and love simply.

Ravaging grief

2007-07-13T20:08:00.001-04:00

Today grief feels like a wildfire, spreading, and ravaging over everything in sight. I went to the SPCA to volunteer again, and today was overwhelming. There are dozens and dozens of cats and kittens there. They are a no-kill facility, which is great, and that means there are lots of cats. It's kitten season so there are bundles and bundles of the little ones. They are fiesty too.

What was hard is that all the kittens were new to me. Unlike my Sassy and my Grayson, it was like interacting with strangers. Cute strangers but strangers all the same. Socializing them is important so they are on the right path to good kittydom and also b/c all the time spent in cages can be a bit depressing to them. They need stimulation and love.

So cage by cage I went meeting each of them. It just felt overwhelming.

Couple this with the fact that Sassy's ashes were ready today. I picked them up at the front desk on my way out (the SPCA here does cremations). It was just heartbreaking to say, "I'd like to pick up my cat's ashes" and to give her name, probably for the last time to a vet-like person. They brought out a two-handled paper tote bag (the kind you get after shopping at Starbucks, Ann Taylor, or the Gap) with her name on it. Inside was a tin with her ashes.

I got to the car in tears and my stomach hurt violently. Grief just took over completely. The one mildly or remotely humorous moment happened when I went to the grocery store to buy some fruits and vegetables to perk me up, and I took the bag "with Sassy" into the store with me. What was I going to do? Leave her in the car, lest the car be stolen (probably a 1 in 10 million chance I'm sure). I'm dedicated to the end. It's just so wrong that my baby girl is in a tin box.

I'm trying to channel my grief through positive methods of mourning. I'm trying to shine the love she gave me out into the world. Today I feel like giving up on everything though. I just feel like a fire has burned me ragged.

For Every Cat An Angel

2007-07-10T21:02:00.000-04:00

My friend Susan who recently lost her Nadia recommended this book to me.

It is such a beautiful gem that brings great comfort and fills the heart with love. Click on it on the reading list to the right to get the full scoop.

Sometimes an angel knows one special person
is waiting for her cat. So she sends the cat
through the starry skies until it arrives at
the place it was meant to be.

When the person and the cat find each other
something happens that is just like magic!
They remember they have been together before,
in a far away place and a long time ago. They
will be together always.

And the guardian angel looks down with love,
knowing the cat has found its forever person,
and the person has found her forever cat.

Sassy Davis, you are my forever cat, and I am your forever person.

Little guy left behind

2007-07-09T18:06:00.000-04:00

Grayson is my little guy left behind. He's 8 years old and rued the day Sassy came tumbling in as a kitten. She was a "mess" - he and I both agreed as we lay snuggled in bed together that first night while she howled (meeped actually) away in the bathroom, as I was keeping her quarantined at first. I don't think she even knew she was a kitten until Grayson showed her the cat-ropes. Even though he looked disdainful often times, I would find him licking her or playing with her when he thought I wasn't looking. And for those first months, she did everything he did. If he sat, she sat. If he napped on the window sill, she napped on the window sill. I could tell he wanted to say "Stop it!!"

Several years later (including him shoving her in the bathtub a few times when she was curiously hovering over the edge looking at the water!), I can tell he misses her. According to the Cornell University Veterinary School Website, common signs of animal grief include:

* Anxiety, restlessness or a need to stay by the owner
* Changes in eating, drinking, sleeping or exercise habits
* Depression, heavy sighing or disinterest in usual activities
* Destructive behavior
* High-pitched distress vocalization (especially in young animals)
* Housesoiling
* Searching the yard, house, and other familiar areas for the animal that has died

Unfortunately for us, Grayson's grief has involved destructive behavior, housesoiling and restlnessness. He also looks for Sassy every day. According to the Cornell site, ways you can help the one left behind include:

The best way to help your animal through this time, which seems to be as difficult for them as it is for us, if not sometimes more so, is simply to give them time, and allow them to grieve with you. It may be helpful for you as well as for your pet to spend time together talking about, or silently remembering the one who has passed on. Trying to spend extra time and attention with your animal will be good for you as well as for them, playing special games with them, giving them special treats, etc.

We're trying to be there for our little guy, as we love him immensely as well. My husband and I laugh because we almost think that after all this time of Sassy being doted upon, when we now say "gootchy gootchy goo....how's our special guy??!!!" he is thinking to himself "What is wrong with you two?!"

Processing guilt

2007-07-08T11:50:00.001-04:00

A very common after-effect in the face of a pet's death is the ugly head of guilt. It nestles itself somewhere along the 'stages of grief' spectrum, and can be gut wrenching and haunting. I have found two wonderful articles on guilt, one by Moira Anderson Allen and the other by Ginger Lyn-Summer.

As Allen explains, guilt is closely linked to responsibility. With pets, we are responsible on a daily basis for their well-being - we feed them, nurture them, take them to the vet when they appear sick. So when something goes wrong, it is natural to feel that WE are responsible for that. She says,

"When something goes wrong, we want to know why. How did it happen? What went wrong? Could it have been prevented -- and if so, how? Who is responsible? What could/should have been done differently? Rarely can we acknowledge that there are no answers to these questions. Rarely can we say, "no one was at fault; it simply happened." Rarely can we accept that nothing could have been changed or done differently."

In Sassy's case, I was already feeling guilt that we had moved from DC, where there is a 24 hour animal hospital with a full oncology team working to battle the cancer, to a small town where there are no oncologists, ultrasound machines, and other measures to treat cancer patients. On top of that, the first vet I chose turned out to be an arrogant disaster who, when we arrived for our first appointment having faxed over 20 pages of her case history a week earlier, had no understanding of her case whatsoever (hadn't read the fax), spent most of the time talking about himself and how great he thinks he is, and visibily disturbed Sassy by his mere presence (which is the opposite of what I witnessed when she met her oncology team). But I did advocate for her in this instance -- I listened to my gut feeling that this would not be a good course of treatment for her - the vet made me feel unheard and uncomfortable even, which is an unsolid relationship basis. So I hit the streets (like Erin Brokovich I joked with my husband), pounding the pavement, demanding to see vets in person for an interview sans Sassy. I did finally find someone who I was very comfortable with.

That being said, a 3cm "something" palpated by our new vet on June 8. She also got a fever and wasn't feeling well so we started antibiotics. He went ahead and gave her a chemo treatment of doxyrubicen a week later.....the oncologist had suggested getting an ultrasound. The nearest facility was about 45 minutes away and the staff were very rude - saying I had to drop Sassy off for 8 hours just to get an ultrasound (and they do not have an oncologist on staff). I finally made the decision to drive her up to DC for evaluation by the oncology team directly. But she died that weekend before we could get to DC for her appointment.

I'm told by the oncologist that it sounds like the cancer was back and had I gotten to DC earlier even, they could have tried different rescue chemo protocols but the outlook would not have been good. Part of me is relieved that she is no longer suffering b/c you could tell the vet visits and so forth were starting to get to her pscyhologically. The other side of me says that I could have done more. I could have.....

-not moved
-rushed her to the emergency vet that last night, yet another strange new facility, I didn't.....not realizing she would die in the night...

I ramble on here, swimming in perhaps incoherent details to those reading about Sassy for the first time. But I guess that is the point -- guilt of this kind is sort of a living hell, a constant feedback loop that plays over and over in one's mind, torturing and stabbing at you anew each time.

The four steps that Allen suggests for breaking the guilt cycle include:

1. Choose not to rehearse guilt.
2. Choose to accept what cannot be changed.
3. Choose balance.
4. Choose forgiveness.

Clearly I am still in the process of wading through these insightful suggestions. In particular, by this very post alone, I find myself 'rehearsing guilt.' I re-play the story in my mind over and over again, finding new nuances each time. I know Sassy would want me to forgive myself because I know she would forgive me. Right before she died, she squeezed my hand three times with her paw. I see this as her final act of love, a final act in a short life filled with nothing but love. As I struggle, I wonder if I can emulate the love lessons she tried to teach me all the way until the very end.

Expressing Grief

2007-07-07T18:43:00.000-04:00

I've been wanting to start a blog about Sassy for years now, and it seems odd that my first post since beginning the site -- the "start" -- would be about the end. Sassy died on June 30 from feline lymphoma. She had a high-grade, aggressive lymphoma in her intestinal tract. It went away after 3 chemotherapy sessions and recently came back. When it comes back so soon, the prognosis is not good -- which we saw play out obviously in her decline last week.

The deep, seemingly bottomless hole that is my loss feels like a brick, a storm, a disaster, a dead-end.....At first words could not describe the feeling. How could she be gone? It was always something I intellectually understood about the illness -- that it would end in her demise -- but not emotionally. These last days, the emotional part has caught up to me.

According to Alan Wolfelt in his book Healing Your Grieving Heart: 100 Practical Ideas, there is a difference between grief and mourning. Grief is an internal feeling and mourning is the outward expression of grief. It is how we process grief. Otherwise, grief unprocessed over the longer term may implode....

Here are some ideas for mourning that I have gleaned from my dear friends on the feline lymphoma support group and the beloved cats lost to lymphoma support group:

1. Make a scrapbook honoring your beloved.
2. Make a special box for placing toys, collars and any other special items.
3. Plan a memorial service.
4. Place a permanent memorial in your garden or home -- such as an engraved stone, paw print in a picture frame, engraved urn with ashes....
5. Create a meditation area that contains pictures and mementos of your beloved friend. Light a candle or incense daily and meditate in this special space.
6. Plant a tree or special flowers to honor your beloved. For friends of the mourner, it is a beautiful gesture to, rather than send flowers, send a plant that will live or bloom over and over as an acknowledgment of the special cat.
7. Talk it out - cry as much as you need to (probably will be in spurts that come and go). Many vet schools run grief hotlines specific to pet loss: Cornell, U. of California, U. of Florida, and others.
8. Make a condolence book of special messages you receive. I've received over 70 messages about Sassy, which has been overwhelming and a beautiful experience. She sparked so much love in everyone she met.
9. Volunteer. Your local SPCA or Humane Society probably needs all the help they can get. You are probably not ready to adopt another pet just yet (in fact, it is often not advised so that you can take the time to mourn) -- yet you can share all the love you have for your cat by shining it on kittens and cats at the shelter; just visiting with them as they feel so lonely, 'talking them up' so that they can be placed into loving homes, and so forth. There are so many cats who need a loving home like the one you provided for your special friend.
10. Read -- there are books listed on this site regarding grief, memories, and the special place that cats hold in our hearts.

How She Began

2005-04-20T20:24:00.000-04:00

Sassy was born in a small alley near 17th and U Streets, NW in Washington, DC shortly before 9/11. Her presence has always been healing to anyone she comes into contact with and I believe she was indeed born to love and to heal, despite how short her time with us was.

Her mama was an alley cat, and she is belived to be the only cat in the litter to survive. One day she was going to eat some yummy food when the floor dropped out underneath her and she was trapped by a woman named Susan, who is active with Alley Cat Allies in DC. She was scooped up and a note was posted about her on a listserv I belong to:

Sent: Thursday, November 08, 2001 12:23 PM
>To: win@yahoogroups.com
>Subject: [win-list] Kitten needs home
>
>
>I have just rescued an adorable kitten from the alleyway, and it needs a
>loving home! The kitten is about 8-10 weeks old (about 6" long) and is dark
>grey with black stripes. S/he needs to be domesticated, which is a process
>that sounds a lot more intimidating than it is -- it really just involves
>playing with the kitten until it's used to you. Please consider helping
>this little one out by adopting it!

I immediately responded "yes!" -- as something in me knew she was "the one." And I knew she was a she too despite the confusion in the post. As my friend Marie said, "I do understand how you felt when you adopted Sassy sight unseen. It was simply meant to be, a premonition, an intuitive knowledge that you were meant to journey together." And the rest has been a journey of so much love with this bundle of joy: