Grief is Universal

One of our beautiful Queens was expecting this week. After a visit to the vet on Friday, Puddin proved to be in first stage labour and we settled in to wait. By Saturday afternoon she had started contracting and we were anxious to see the new arrival.

Around 5pm, Pudd gave birth to a stillborn black tortie female. The little one didn't take a breath at all and appeared to have been in some distress. Watching her clean her daughter and try to get her to breathe was heartbreaking and I sat there with the baby in my hands and wept. I allowed Pudd time to cuddle her baby and then quietly took care of the body.

Pudd is such a fantastic Mum that the loss has hit her hard. She has been calling for her baby and mothering the other kittens. Her cries break my heart and the anxious way she checks on the other babies and paces the floor have proven beyond any doubt that my baby girl is grieving and grieving deeply. This evening she curled up half on and half off my lap and just looked at me. Her ever present smile was gone and their is a look of puzzled hurt in her beautiful green eyes.

Animals feel pain and joy, sorrow and grief, they share our triumphs as well as our tragedies and no scientist with a clipboard will tell me any different. Her baby is in good hands, sleeping with our Arthur Bean at Rainbow Bridge.

Pudd will recover. She is going to be desexed and enjoy retirement with a loving family. Cuddles will be forthcoming as long as she needs them.

In happier times with an earlier litter.

Cin.

Love hurts.....

Today, we lost another friend. This year alone, as a family we have said goodbye to three of our much loved fur friends. Too much for one year, too much pain and far too many tears.

In February, our Granma Besa, head of the dogpack, suffered a stroke which left her dazed, confused and unable to either get up or go down our very high back steps. She had been diagnosed with massive tumours the previous December and we knew we were running on borrowed time. Unfortunately, time stops for no man and her time ran out. I'd like to say she went peacefully but Besa fought me the whole way. That was just the kind of dog she was.

On the 20th of August we lost Arthur Bean, the one-eyed Pirate Cat. This little fellow filled our house with love, laughter and naughtiness. He left a huge hole, a huge, deep, dark, scary hole that we didn't think could be filled.

Now it is November and our hearts are shredded again. Our darling Kai, the blonde of the household, my Chickendog has gone. Kai suffered horrendously from skin allergies her whole life and by the end she was mostly blind, deaf as a post and I believe had numerous outbreaks of cancer throughout her tired body. We chose to do the right think, knowing that with a heart as big as hers, she would not succumb but would continue to fight in her quiet, stoical way.

Rest easy, Princess. At Rainbow Bridge you will be whole and healed, you will be young and strong and Besa is waiting for you. Go bravely.

I can't make the pain go away, I can't stop the hurt but I can be there for when the night gets too quiet and a furrever friend is missing.