Tuesday, 29 October 2013

Funeral For A Friend

We buried Tarmac in the back garden this morning. Well when I said 'we' I mean Peter and Andrew as I just couldn't bring myself to stand in the garden and watch as he was put into the cold earth and covered over. They've put him in a sunny spot near the Silver Birch where he used to lie and sunbathe. It's a nice spot and I can see it from the kitchen window so will always be able to keep an eye on things. In the spring I'm going to plant a rose on the spot as a marker.

Sleeping in the sun
The trip to the vet was not as bad as I expected it to be. The vet was a new one, someone I hadn't seen before but she was so caring. I was a completely mess before I even got in there because in my heart of hearts I knew Tarmac would not be coming home alive.

He was throughly and gently examined and then the vet told us that his cancer had grown and she could now feel two other lumps. She gave us our options which were a course of steroids and antibiotics which might perk him up and keep him going for another few days or to end it there and then, before he really began to suffer. We were left alone for five minutes to discuss the situation but both Peter and I agreed immediately that we had to do what was right for him.

He was taken through to another room where a canula was put in his leg and I was allowed to cuddle him as the drug was injected. It was a quick and easy death and I knew I'd done the right thing when I saw all the pain leave his eyes and his face relaxed from the 'clenched' look he'd had over the last few hours. I also take comfort in the fact that the last thing he felt was me stroking him and the last thing he heard was me telling him how much I loved him.

Caught up to mischief
We wrapped him his blanket and put him back in the cat carrier where he stayed in the garage until this morning.

I haven't stopped crying yet. I have moments when I think I'm going to be fine and then something will set me off, walking up the stairs and not seeing him curled up by the airing cupboard. Watching TV and not having him on my lap. Waking up this morning and not feeling that little furry body pressed up against me.

Tarmac has been with my for my whole PH journey. He's lain beside me on days when I can't get out of bed. I've cried millions of tears into his soft fur when scared or ill. He's punished me for leaving him after a spell in hospital only to stick to me like glue for days afterwards. He's made me cry but he's made me laugh much more, from falling off the fence or down the stairs to walking into the French doors thinking they were open.

Tarmac has been my constant companion for fifteen years and I shall miss him everyday. He wasn't the brightest spark but his heart was bigger than anything I've even known. He knew I loved him and I know he loved me with such devotion he must have been part dog.

Asking for a tummy tickle

For the moment I'm devastated. I'm not eating, I can't settle, my lungs are on fire from the mixture of infection and crying and I know Peter is very worried about me. Life goes on though and I know the raw pain of grief will pass and I'll begin to remember only the good happy times.

I know there will be people out there going 'it's only a cat' but he was more to me than that and I know true cat lovers will understand. If you don't then please respect my grief.