Loss is not something I'm used to, thankfully.
In fact, last May was the first time that I had ever lost someone I loved dearly. I am blessed in so many ways. But recently, life has been a little tough.
I consider my pets like family members. Last week our beloved goat had to be put down. Six days ago the cat my parents gave me in grade eight went missing in a snowstorm and hasn't returned. Yesterday morning my sweet kitty Violet died tragically right in front of my eyes.
If you read my blog you might remember that I adopted two kittens from the animal shelter in November 2011. I was feeling lonely at home and missed having the animal companionship I was used to. Josh and I decided that a cat would be wonderful for me. Upon arriving at the shelter, I was immediately drawn to the cutest little kittens sitting together in their shared cage. The animal control officer told us they were sisters and have never been separated, and that they'd give us two for the price of one if we took both. So of course, already in love with them, I agreed.
Summer and Violet quickly filled the animal shaped hole in my heart. They were so quirky and loveable and cuddly and hilarious. Summer was the wild one. Always whipping around the house seeing what mischief she could get into. Violet was my baby. She followed me everywhere I went, and whenever I'd sit down on the couch she'd snuggle into my lap and fall asleep.
Violet was not your typical snotty feline. She was so friendly and curious about new people and animals that came into the house. Whenever I got home from work she'd run to the door and greet me like a dog.
My cats have always lived indoors. When we moved to the farm, there just wasn't room to keep them inside anymore. Josh and I made a safe place in the barn for them where I could lock them in at night and know they were cozy and warm. However, there was always a constant stress in the back of my mind that they'd get eaten by coyotes or a pile of stacked wood would fall on them… I loved those cats so much and tried to protect them as well as I could.
The other night the temperature dropped well below zero and my mom said I could keep them in their basement for the night. I was so relieved, and cheerfully went out to the barn to retrieve them.
The next morning I went downstairs to put them outside again, but decided to have a cuddle session with Violet first. While Summer played in the heating vents (somehow they had discovered how to get in there) I sat on the floor with Violet in my lap while she purred happily.
Eventually Violet began to get hyper and did a silly little dash around the room- like she's done a million times before.
Suddenly, Violet picked up speed and ran full tilt into the piano. There was silence for a moment as I stood there in shock, not believing what I had just witnessed. I thought she had knocked herself out. It almost seemed comical.
I won't go into details about what happened next, but exactly one minute later, Violet passed away.
It was horrifying. I was devastated and heartbroken, and extremely traumatized. I sobbed all day. Poor Summer has never been separated from her sister before and hasn't stopped searching the house calling for her since it happened. It was the absolute worst day of my life, and I still can't believe she's gone.
I became very bitter, thinking a cruel joke had been played on me. My cats survived two weeks outside in a barn, and Violet died by hitting a piano? Inside? I'm still upset. I don't know if I will ever truly get over this. I miss that little creature so badly, and my heart is broken.
My mom put it into perspective a little for me. I guess it would have been so much worse if I had found her like that, not knowing what happened. At least I know that five minutes before she died we were cuddling and she was happy.
The only thing that brings me comfort now is picturing Violet in a better place. I truly believe that somewhere up in heaven there's a content little cat purring on my grandpa's lap.