There is something that touches us all in the passing of a loved one. In this case, she died with me cradling her head in my hand.
In fact, nothing quite captures our relationship with Cleo as her passing. For Cleo was the most generous of all cats I have known. She was the most eager to meet us halfway in our differing needs. Indeed, if humans and animals can communicate at all, Cleo taught me the most in how to go about it.
Case in point, as Manya and I both realized at pretty much the same moment that today was the day, we huddled around her on the kitchen floor trying to comfort her.
She had much to say on this subject...
Cleo: Howl! (Transl: Stop petting me!)
Us: Sorry! (Cleo then went back to purring, if with increasingly shorter and shorter breaths.)
Cleo: Howl! (Transl: Where did Manya go?!)
Us: Sorry! (Whereupon, Manya quickly returned and gently rested her hand on Cleo's back. Cleo then went back to her labored purring.)
I, for my part, was still cupping her head in my hands. For well over two hours. In fact, once when I needed to ease a leg that was cramping, we had this surreal conversation...
Cleo: Howl!
Me: For crying out loud! I've been sitting here for two hours. Cut me some slack!
(After I had adjusted my leg, Cleo went back to her purring.)
At the moment she passed, there we still were, precisely where she demanded we be - in the litter she had insisted we create within our home.
My god, I will miss her.
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