Ci vediamo, mi amor

"We will see each other, my love".

It all happened way too fast. I noticed she wasn't eating, she was sleeping more than usual, her eyes looked heavy, her jaw hanging lower than usual, and her hands and feet dirty as if she couldn't clean herself anymore. Her breath was smelling as if something was infected and the corners of her mouth hosted an unhealthy residue.

Something was wrong.

I frantically called the Humane Society to schedule her in. They had a 3pm opening; it was 2:20; I live 5 minutes away; I rushed over there, "Fuck 3pm, she can't wait" I said in the car as Angelina lets out soft cries of fear and uncomfortability in her box. "It's ok, it's ok, we'll be there in a second. We'll get you back to normal in no time".

The nurse asked me what was wrong and I hated having to tell her the symptoms - they freaked me out and I knew that it had begun the moment I told the nurse. We took her into the doctor's room and they started inspecting her mouth. Her mouth was swollen, infected, filled with odor. They looked at her chin; "How long has her chin looked like this?"..."Looked like what?"..."Swollen"..."I had no idea..."

The doctor offered two options - 1. Treat her with antibiotics for a few days and see if her mouth gets better or 2. Do an x-ray to see if there is possible cancer in the jaw. "CANCER!? Cat's don't get cancer! She's only 5 years old!"..."Ok, do the x-ray, whatever it takes, I'll do anything". The x-ray was inconclusive, she was moving too much. They kept her overnight so they could sedate her in the morning.

My apartment was eerily quiet Wednesday night. I could barely fall asleep. I thought of how absent and meaningless my life would be without her. I tried to remember how optimistic the doctor was about it just being an infection and fell asleep. Thursday morning I did not enjoy eating my breakfast and drinking my coffee as I sat in front of this laptop checking my email. I usually play music for her, but I couldn't turn on the music without her nuzzling next to me, trying to take bites of my oatmeal. I got on with my day, road my bike, went to work, ran errands at work to get ready for my event. My dad texted and called about 3 times, leaving each conversation without an answer as to how the x-ray went.

The doctor finally called me at work; after phone tag and relentless navigation through their terrible phone lines, I got a hold of him. All I can remember from the conversation is, "tumor", "sarcosis", "cancer", "can't go in", "inevitable", "we can give her pain medicine and you can take her home for a day or two to spend some time with her, but she won't be able to eat and will be very uncomfortable", and "this is never an easy thing to do". WTF?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I called my mom. She started crying the moment I let out a cry. She knew. She agreed to just do it now. No need to keep her uncomfortable, she had had enough. I left work, sobbing, holding back the hard cries while driving home, hitting the steering wheel, so pissed off, biting my lip, hitting the steering wheel harder, wanting to tear down an entire wall with my bare hands. Dad picked me up, crying, faces red, I hate hearing a grown man cry, I can't believe this is happening.

We sat down in that tiny doctor's room and they brought her in. She was still loopy from the sedation and head bobbing, it was painfully cute. She was wrapped in that green towel, looking like people had been holding her for awhile, and I was glad. I hated leaving her overnight in a little box, all alone, scared, ugh, fuck I hate thinking about her being alone. Her eyes were huge, like she had just lost it, like she was a totally different person. But when I held her, she found herself again, she knew who I was and knew that every time she was in MY arms, everything was ok. I wished I could hold her in my arms permanently, forever, that it would somehow get rid of the tumor. I wished I was God. I wasn't. I lost it when my dad held her. She turned him into a cat lover. When his belly was bigger, she would sit on it and stick her butt in his face, wag her tail softly across his nose, and watch the birds through the window.

And then, the nurse came in. I signed some papers. I held her again. The nurse looked at me, I cried so hard it hurt all over my entire body. She kept looking at me, wanting to take her from me, but not knowing when to stick her arms out as a signal. I wasn't giving her up until I absolutely had to. She stuck her arms out and rested them under her belly. I gave her up. I looked at her, grabbed her face, "Ti amo cara, ti amo, I'm so sorry". The doctor said it was best we didn't stay. I hate myself for not staying. I don't think I'll ever be able to get over that. Why did I leave?!!! She was so miserable, and even though I was sad, I should have stayed with her, it's the least I could have done.

The doctor said cats instinctively hide their pain more than any other animal. That's why I couldn't tell how bad she was. I wish I was God. I wish I believed in heaven. I wish she could be sitting on my grandma's lap right now, feeling love. I can't even think that far ahead. All my memory keeps bumping into is saying goodbye to her, those eyes. Those huge green eyes and that beautiful white chin.

I feel like I lost a best friend. My apartment is a sad sad place right now. Boxes everywhere, pictures off the wall, quiet, her hairballs still scattered in the corners. I donated most of her stuff to the Humane Society and gave the rest to my brother's cat. I've decided to keep the litter box, just in case I decide to get a cat in the future. Right now I can't even fathom it.

I'm moving out of this apartment on Tuesday. I'm looking forward to the day I can be content with what I did. Right now I feel like a murderer and a pansy. God she was so beautiful. She was the only woman who would sit for hours listening to me play guitar, her tail slowly wagging to the beat; she was the only woman who loved me unconditionally, with no reserve, who would sleep next to me every night and look forward to seeing me when I came home from work. I would be so exhausted each night and she knew it; she gave me so much comfort. She saved me from sorrow when I got her, keeping me company while I was couped up inside from a bad concussion, was there through every move, every break up, every death, every relationship, and always greeted each guest in my apartment with her loving embrace. The way she would close her eyes as Melisa ran her fingers down her back is something I will never forget.

I never understood the significance of losing a pet until these last few moments. I feel like I lost a piece of me. There is a hole in my heart that I'm hoping will be filled eventually.

I thought I was done crying...