This week we had to say goodbye to our very much loved cat Grover (aka Guvnor). I realize this is a depressing post (sorry mom, Jen, Hollie, Alana, and anyone else who had the chance to connect with him), but it will explain why we here at Kitka have been a little lackluster lately.
Begging for food - look at those eyes work it.
Grover was an amazing cat. We often joked that he was quite morose, but he was really just very serious (and the complete opposite of princess Isha). If I could just anthropomorphize for a second, he would be a proper English bachelor, a bit of a dandy, forever in his stuffy study, surrounded by books, a tipple and a cracking fire, with a nagging spinster sister taking care of him.
But seriously, Grover was handsome and elegant. When he slept with us at night, he took up more than his fair share of the bed with his long and lean body laying perpendicular to us, of course. When treats were on offer, he trotted with a perky gait. He was John’s lap cat and my snuggle monster. Once he caught a real mouse, and when met with screams of horror from a group of us girls, he referenced the fake fun fur mouse by touching it to his real catch of the day, perplexed as to why we were not singing his praises. Oh, and sometimes he chased his tail.
In the early days of the blog, getting in my way (and looking bored) while trying to photograph some thrifting
Today I woke up with a broken heart. I thought things would feel better but the whole experience of letting a pet go has been more traumatizing than I ever could have imagined. We learned in December that he had a cancerous tumor in his mouth and it had already invaded the bone. The difficult thing was that he was an otherwise healthy cat – eager to eat and snuggle, but obviously in a lot of pain and discomfort. We had a vet come to the house (thank goodness since I was a total mess) to put him to sleep but honestly, it wasn’t the peaceful moment we were expecting (it took about 45 minutes, 45 minutes too long if you ask me). I can’t help but feel guilt and regret. Has anyone else experienced this (the realization that the process is not so peaceful, and feelings of guilt and regret after)? The house feels awful and empty without him, and Isha can only bring us so many mice to cheer us up (aha, here comes one now, no kidding).
Isha, on the left, is our little ray of sunshine. We worry about how she will eventually react but so far she seems to be managing okay.