On Sunday, January 8, my mom told me that Tiger had not eaten food in three weeks. They didn't want to ruin my holidays, so they waited to tell me until after. Then everyone in my family got sick, and my mom didn't want to add the stress of Tiger on top of that. He was drinking his water, but not eating his food. My mom and brother told me that the past couple of days he had stayed inside of his bed laying down, and not doing anything except for breathing - and an ear twitch if they touched him. I asked them to please give me updates at least twice a day: in the morning when they wake up, and at night before they went to bed.
On Monday, January 9, my mom texted me that she had a fever of over 101 and she would not be going to work the next day. After I read that text I felt an impression in my heart that she had a fever so that she could be home when Tiger left us and we could spend the day preparing him and his things to say goodbye.
A little after Noon on Tuesday January 10, my brother Michael called me. I said, "Hello?" I heard Michael breathe, but no words were said. I asked, "Is he gone?" Michael said, "All signs point to yes." I started crying and said, "I'm coming over right now." I started throwing whatever I could think of into the diaper bag: extra clothes, diapers, sippy cups, the baby monitors, and my laptop. I threw shoes and coats on my kids and we left.
As I was going through this frenzy I was crying, and it upset Benjamin and Luna. I tried to explain as best I could, "Benjamin, Tiger died this morning. That means his body is here, but his spirit is not. He is with Heavenly Father right now." Benjamin asked, "Tiger is at his friends house?" "No," and I repeated myself. "Tiger is happy?" More tears. "Yes."
When we got to the house, Michael helped me get Benjamin and Luna inside. I asked Michael where Tiger was, and he pointed to Tiger's house in our backyard (he has a big dog house equipped with a bed, food and water bowls, and a heater during the winter). I was halfway there, when I spun around and fell into Michael's arms and cried my eyes out. I really cried. I can't remember the last time I cried like that. I couldn't control my voice, my screams, my body. I just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. At one point I felt new arms wrap themselves around me and heard my mom say in a choked up voice, "Oh Chelsey, I'm so sorry."
After what felt like an hour, but was only a few minutes, I wiped my tears and went out to the backyard. Michael came with me and my mom kept Benjamin and Luna inside. When I saw Tiger the tears came back, and I fell on the ground and started bawling and screaming again. I sat there on my knees, hunched over his bed, and petted him while I cried. Michael cried with me. I told Michael that the night before I had wanted to come see Tiger to say goodbye, but had been unable to, and now it was too late. Michael told me to not beat myself up over that, Tiger knew that I loved him.
When I was a bit more composed I asked Michael to tell me everything. He said that he had slept in until 11:00 and once he was up he went to check on Tiger. He said that the past couple days he had dreaded being the one to find Tiger dead, but that morning as he walked to the back door he felt calm and peace, he already knew. He could tell just by looking at him, but did a thorough check to make sure, and then he called me. I asked if he had an idea of when: was it during the night, or in the morning? He told me with the research he had done on rigor mortis that Tiger most likely died that morning, not during the night.
My mom had also researched that cats often will leave before they die, and so the fact that Tiger stayed nearby speaks to us that he loved us and wanted to be with us. Micheal also told me that up until the night before he died, Tiger's back was to the door of his house which faces our house. Tiger had turned himself around so that he was facing our house when he died.
We knew that different cities have different ordinances about burying pets in backyards, so we tried to find out what Provo's is. We could not find any information. Every city employee that we talked to transferred us to someone else, no one knew a d*** thing. We ended up leaving a message for animal control, and hours later when they had not called back, my dad went to their office which is in the police station. It turns out that there is not official animal control office. It's simply a couple officers who are assigned to "animal control". And once again, the people at the police station could not answer our questions.
I wasn't fully on board with burying Tiger. It was simply one of my options. I was also considering cremation. The closest place to us is Pet Reflections in Pleasant Grove. I liked the information on their website, and so I called them to find out details and prices. After a lot of thought, tears, and talking to everyone: my mom, dad, Michael and Gerson, I decided to take Tiger to Pet Reflections, get his paw print in ceramic with his name, birth and death dates engraved; but I wasn't going to keep his ashes. I decided that I also wanted to keep his collar and food and water bowls.
This morning, January 11, Michael helped me take Tiger to Pet Reflections. We said a prayer before we left, which we both cried through. When we walked in, the lady asked how she could help us, and I just started crying. She invited me to sit down and asked if I would like some water. I asked for a tissue. I told her I was bringing my cat in. She filled out all of the forms for me for his paw print and the cremation. When all the details were written out, I took off his collar and handed the box he was in to her. She walked him into an other room, and I broke down, and started having second thoughts. I asked her to wait, that I wasn't sure if I could handle not coming back for his ashes. I asked her to give me some time to talk to my brother. She told me that lots of people change their minds and that I could have as much time as I needed to figure it out. She suggested that I go home and spend a good amount of time to figure it out and then call them and tell them what I decided. They would hold onto Tiger and not do anything until I called them. I remembered that I had not eaten breakfast yet and that would probably help me. I thanked her and left.
When back in the car I started crying again, and I had to wait a few minutes before I could drive. We got McDonald's and headed back to my apartment. The farther away I got from Pet Reflections, the clearer my mind became. Michael kindly reminded me of what I had said before we got there. I had said that if we buried him, I would look out in the backyard and it would feel weird to know his body was there, but not his spirit. And that if I kept his ashes, I would feel weird looking at the box they were in and know that was what was left of him. I had said that the paw print was the most important keepsake of him that I wanted. That was the piece of him that I could comfortably have in my home.
When we were done eating breakfast I called Pet Reflections and told them to go forward with the original instructions. They told me it would take a week to a week and a half before the paw print is ready for pick up. I am probably going to be super anxious and emotional while waiting for that phone call.
Michael stayed with me the rest of the day. We chatted, got lunch, and watched Fiddler on the Roof.
Looking back, I have two regrets about preparing to say goodbye to Tiger. 1. I didn't say goodbye to him while he was still alive on Monday night. I wish I would have forfeited the dishes or something to go to my parents' house. 2. My meltdown at Pet Reflections caused me to not say a proper goodbye to him before handing him off to the lady. As I type this I have no idea if he has been cremated yet or not. I will never know when exactly that happened. And it's probably for the best.
As I lamented about these regrets to Michael, he said, "Chelsey, no matter what you had done, you would not have felt that it was good enough. There is no perfect way to do this. But, Tiger knows that you love him."
That is what I have taken away from this experience. There is no perfect way to say goodbye. And it's hard making such permanent decisions. It's not like in the movies where we stand as a family in perfect black clothing, say perfectly scripted expressions of love and memories, and shed perfect tears without smudging our makeup. I can't look back and say, "I could have done this. I should have done that." I take it for what it is. And you know what? I did say a beautiful goodbye yesterday. Yesterday I was alone with Tiger for a minute and I got to tell him what I wanted to. No, it wasn't right before he got taken away from me this morning. But how do you have a proper goodbye in a cramped room with a stranger watching?
How everything went down, what I decided, was the best for my situation. No, it wasn't picture perfect, but it was perfect for me. I'm not "over it" yet. I've cried off and on for the past two days. And I will probably have more moments in the days to come. But I have had a wonderful support system. My parents have called and texted me to check up on me. Michael hasn't left my side except at night. And Gerson bathed the kids and offered to clean up from dinner. I have received lots of love from friends and family over the past two days as well. All of that means a lot to me. Thank you to everyone.
I'm going to write a second post about Tiger's life and all of the memories that I can muster. I didn't want to throw those into this post because I want to spend some time remembering as much as I can. I can't end this eloquently, so I'm just going to say, I loved Tiger. I loved him with all of my heart.
No comments:
Post a Comment