On August 17, it will be one year since I lost my beloved Emeril, the most handsome cat in the world. His last week with me was not good, and I keep reliving that week, looking for a way that I could have changed the outcome. But I can’t. And that really, really hurts. I’ve always prided myself as being the type of person who can find a solution to any problem.
I tried my best to care for him after his diagnosis of kidney disease (CRF) and regret that I couldn’t do more. Of course, I knew that his diagnosis was terminal, but I prayed he would be one of the fortunate ones who lived many years with the disease.
I was never going to beat this disease and did everything I could to help him. Pureed his food and syringe-feed him for months, gave him subcutaneous fluids every day and more medicine than a kitty should ever need. So I know that I didn’t fail him. But what gives me the greatest peace is knowing that Emeril never did a damn thing he didn’t want to do.
His blankie not spread out on the sofa like he wanted. Meow! Not getting up fast enough to feed him. Meow! Meow! Not paying attention to him and giving him the proper adulation he expected. Meow! Meow! Meow! What Emeril wanted; Emeril got. And he knew it too.
I guess he took matters into his own paws and did what he knew I couldn’t do and let go.
A Girl and Her Cat
I’ve always loved cats and Emeril was my first true house pet. I remember when I first brought him home. He did a fast run through of the apartment and then hid underneath the futon. I had smartly closed my bedroom door so he couldn’t hide underneath the bed where I would have struggled to reach him. I let him hide until my impatience got the best of me and I pulled him out from underneath the futon.
I laid down with Emeril standing on my chest. And after a few moments, he gave me a few friendly head bumps and laid down on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him, stroking his silky soft fur (what little he had at that time) and basking in his loud purrs. It was the start of our beautiful life together.
RIP: My Beloved Emeril
He was called up to heaven before I was ready but I find solace in knowing that he is hearty and healthy again. He never has to suffer the indignity of an enema ever again and his food dish always overflows. He can boss his kid brother, Mo, around and spend the day chasing after birdies and napping in the sun.
And I will see him again.
He was my heart and the best cat a girl could ever want.
I will remember.