Long Night's Journey Into Day

O'Neill won't mind me nicking and torquing his title.

The cat died last night. He's been failing for quite a while, and yesterday, he just stopped living. He didn't look right when I saw him in the morning, and when I left for work, he was nowhere to be seen. When I got home, I noticed he hadn't used the litter box at all, and I went looking for him. He was in a closet, lying on his side. I touched his ear, then picked his head up. He got to his feet, but it was clearly a struggle, and then he just laid back down. I called the vet.


This is a good time to introduce my friend, Sue. She's the American veterinarian who sometimes works in Kabul. She's on her way there today, in fact, but last night, she took time from her already over-packed day to come by after I called and said that I thought Friskie was dying. When she arrived, around 7 pm, I wasn't sure Friskie was still alive. Her immediate reaction upon seeing him was that his kidneys had shut down and his natural instinct had led him to the quiet, dark closet where he'd end his time here. It didn't take long. I was scratching his ear, and Sue said, "He's already gone." She wrapped him in a towel and held him while we said goodbye.

In my work, I've often been with people at times of passing. It's never easy but sometimes it is gentle. Friskie was lucky: his passing was gentle.

The dog, Champ, clearly knows something's wrong. He's looking for Friskie. I feel bad knowing he won't find him and that I can't explain. The bathroom seems oddly empty without the litter box and the house seems unusually quiet. I know I'm projecting, but the feeling is real.

As independent and 'I'm doing you a favor by being here' as any feline, Friskie was something of a force of nature. Sixteen-plus years of having to look before going down the steps in case he was there (because there was no way he was going to move); feeding him wet dog food (because it's what he liked); cleaning up after him (because for the last six months he didn't always use the litter box).  I feel more wrung out than I expected I would.  Last night, I slept, and I'm pretty sure I dreamt, but it's a void - just a long night's journey into day.