Tuesday, 24 June 2014

Crying over Knatti: part 2



There was of cause no miracle to be had. On monday morning, Knatti was even worse. It was painful to see him suffer and painful to feel like we abandoned him when he needed us near him the most. While I grieve that he had to die, what breaks my heart is feeling that he spent his last days detached from his safety, from his family and home. Someone pointed out that we always die alone, even if we're surrounded by loved ones, but Knatti also suffered his last time alone and that pains me to think of. We were of cause there when he got that final, lethal injection that stopped his heart, but those were just his last minutes. When he was so ill I don't even know if he fully understood that we were there or if he was too ill to be comforted by our presence.

Logically, I know we did the only thing that could be done to try and save his life, but it doesn't change the fact that with the outcome being what it was, this left him very alone in a strange place, subjected to needles and pains without us, those who should protect him from everything bad and soothe him when in pains, for what in a cat's mind must have been a very long time. I can't undo that, I can't turn back time. I can't even persuade myself that it was the right thing to do, the only chance he had, as I can't ignore how that decision determined how his last days became.  And I don't want anyone else to try and persuade me.

And regardless of how he died, there's also another thing: he derserved more years. He wasn't old. He was the kindest of cats, who never harmed anyone who got into fights. Life is unfair, that's just the way it is. And Knatti's short life is just one more example of that. Had life been fair, he'd still have most of his years in front of him. He died too young. That's the long and the short of it: he deserved more years. Many more years.



I posted photos of him in the last post, but missed this one, which shows how sweet he was. It's Knatti with his new baby brother sleeping by his side. He always was the kindest, the one most likely to accept new kittens -- even when they became older, more mischievous, and wanted to play (which includes things like ear biting, which often render them a slap by the adult cats, but not from Knatti). He placidly accepted them, even when more wild than the other big cats, including their moms, found tolerable. Maybe it was only fitting that he got a grave beside some of the youngest kittens in our cat cemetary.

To end this post, I've picked out a few of the pics we took last week when Julle and Knatti came with my sis and I up in the hill. Of all cats, those two are the ones that appreciated our forest walks the most. They loved tagging along (Julle, of cause, still does), not least as they got us to themselves. Two peaceful cats that otherwise are pushed aside by the tougher ones. So in a way it's fitting that the last images of him is in a place and a situation he enjoyed so much. Never in a million years did I on that day think it would be the last time I sat with him in my lap, watching the sunset and stroking his fur on a beautiful, quiet summer evening.






Oh, sweetheart...

3 comments:

  1. I'm so sorry. I lost one of my cats to kidney disease, so know how quickly they can deteriorate. I don't know if it helps, but I would have done exactly what you did. As an animal lover, you have to know in your heart that you tried everything you could (within reason) to save them before you can let them go. But you did let him go, and you were with him when he went. Big hugs, honey. Tears falling for you....

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  2. I lost a cat to kidney disease too. It happens all at once. I would have done exactly the same thing you did and tried to save him. I am sure he knew you were there when he left - they know. Just as he knows you love him and were trying to help. Lots of hugs and I am so very sorry.

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  3. So sad. A big hug to you and your sister. Milka

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