G
Grothnor
Guest
Original poster
It sucks.
It happened last Tuesday morning. My mom heard him yowl loudly enough to wake her so she checked on him and immediately could tell what was going on. Fitz was an old cat, just a few weeks shy of his 15th birthday. Mom was with him until the end.
She woke me up and told me not long after that. I ended up going back to sleep, feeling numb and sad. I was woken up a few hours later by a text from my brother telling me to finish digging his grave in the backyard. We ended up putting Fitz into a box and left him in the living room until everyone we could feasibly round up was around for the burial.
When the older of my two younger sisters came home, she, my mom and I had ourselves a mini wake for him. I could hardly bring myself to be in the room with Fitz before then. I once tried to close his eyes before then but was too creeped out by the fact that he was dead to do it. Once my dad came home, we buried him. I closed up the box and carried it to the hole and set him in. Mom and I did the burying and we all stood there in silence for a minute before returning inside.
We didn't tell my youngest sister until we came to pick her up from college yesterday. We didn't want her to be distracted from her finals by the bad news. She was quite vocal about how much she missed Fitz; it came up just about every time she talked about coming home. I felt incredibly guilty for not telling her, even though I understood the reason. I felt incredibly guilty for having to add the caveat 'don't talk about this on social media, lest my sister find out' when telling anyone else. I dreaded when she'd return home because I didn't want to have to cry again.
And here I am crying again.
At first, I tried grieving as much as I could. I cried by myself when preparing my lunch when I remembered how I'd give him a pinch of shredded cheese every time I used some. I even cried in front of my mother and sister, something I never let myself do. Grief is a social activity, grief is best solved not by ignoring the pain but by addressing it with others. The next day I was surprised how well I was feeling. I even laughed at the dead dog gag in 'Look Who's Back', but I felt guilty about it immediately after.
Now, everything just seems dull. Dark Souls isn't as fun anymore, I'm struggling to get through RWBY and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix, even RPing has seemed more like a chore than a joy. I'm sad, it sucks, and I miss my goddamn cat.
It happened last Tuesday morning. My mom heard him yowl loudly enough to wake her so she checked on him and immediately could tell what was going on. Fitz was an old cat, just a few weeks shy of his 15th birthday. Mom was with him until the end.
She woke me up and told me not long after that. I ended up going back to sleep, feeling numb and sad. I was woken up a few hours later by a text from my brother telling me to finish digging his grave in the backyard. We ended up putting Fitz into a box and left him in the living room until everyone we could feasibly round up was around for the burial.
When the older of my two younger sisters came home, she, my mom and I had ourselves a mini wake for him. I could hardly bring myself to be in the room with Fitz before then. I once tried to close his eyes before then but was too creeped out by the fact that he was dead to do it. Once my dad came home, we buried him. I closed up the box and carried it to the hole and set him in. Mom and I did the burying and we all stood there in silence for a minute before returning inside.
We didn't tell my youngest sister until we came to pick her up from college yesterday. We didn't want her to be distracted from her finals by the bad news. She was quite vocal about how much she missed Fitz; it came up just about every time she talked about coming home. I felt incredibly guilty for not telling her, even though I understood the reason. I felt incredibly guilty for having to add the caveat 'don't talk about this on social media, lest my sister find out' when telling anyone else. I dreaded when she'd return home because I didn't want to have to cry again.
And here I am crying again.
At first, I tried grieving as much as I could. I cried by myself when preparing my lunch when I remembered how I'd give him a pinch of shredded cheese every time I used some. I even cried in front of my mother and sister, something I never let myself do. Grief is a social activity, grief is best solved not by ignoring the pain but by addressing it with others. The next day I was surprised how well I was feeling. I even laughed at the dead dog gag in 'Look Who's Back', but I felt guilty about it immediately after.
Now, everything just seems dull. Dark Souls isn't as fun anymore, I'm struggling to get through RWBY and Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix, even RPing has seemed more like a chore than a joy. I'm sad, it sucks, and I miss my goddamn cat.
