Sunday, 20 August 2017

Passing of Eve

Watching a beloved pet fall ill and go through a painful process of recovery is never a nice thing to experience - even worse when it becomes clear they are not going to pull through and recover.

So it is with great sadness and utter devastation that we said farewell to our darling cat Eve at 1130 hours this morning as the vet administered the injection that put her to sleep.  It was a gut-wrenching decision, but her illness was eating away at her, and as much as we fought for her, and as much as Eve fought her own insurmountable battle to stay with us, her illness won out eventually.

Copyright 2017 - Mark Kelly

Our beautiful Eve had become a former shadow of herself - muscle wasted away, her ability to eat diminished to barely a nibble, the sparkle of mischief and life in her gorgeous eyes reduced to a distant memory. We had the occasional spark of the old Eve once in a while, as we did yesterday afternoon as we all sat in the garden and Eve noticed a butterfly, and for the briefest of moments she was full of rapt attention and stalking, but the butterfly flew away and so did the glimmer of Eve.

People reading this who dislike cats, or have no empathy with pets will think this sentimental garbage, but those of you for whom, like us, regard our pets as our friends, and moreover, as our family, will understand.

Eve was a loving cat, kind of spirit and gentle in nature, always looking for a hand to stroke her face or a pair of arms to be cuddled by. Eve and our dog, Darcy, hit it off from the moment they first met, never a cross word between them, and often would share a bed together.

Copyright 2017 - Mark Kelly

It is said that when cats show affection, it is genuine and because they want to. Eve gave much in the way of affection, and the void left by her passing will be evident for a long time to come.

My wife and I were with Eve to her very last breath, and the memory of how her limp body felt in our hands as we wrapped her in her favourite blanket in preparation for her cremation will stay with us for a very, very long time. Eve's dignity, stoicism, strength of character and constant patience and calm through her entire illness and especially her treatment was, and always will be, a very humbling experience for me.

I believe that when you lose someone, be they family, friend or a beloved animal companion, a small part of you dies with them. That part may be no bigger than a grain of sand, but when taken from your heart and soul you feel that loss as if replaced by something greater and far heavier. That passes with time, and the part of you that went with them is their keepsake, for them to remember you by and take comfort from, and who knows, maybe creates a bond that allows them to visit us from time-to-time?

I hope so.

The music I have attached will always remind me of Eve, as it was only last week I held her over my shoulder, feeling that soft, contented purring as I danced gently with her in our kitchen, as we looked out at her beloved garden together to this very song - bitter-sweet though it is.
We're heartbroken and already miss her terribly.