Your Pet Loss Diaries

Wednesday Dec 24, 2008

by Liz

It's been four days since I was informed of Casey's death. I believe that I have been through every emotion possible for a human being in the last four days except for happiness or hope or anything of the sort. My head is persistently foggy and I get headaches after every sudden crying fit I've been having. The first day I was told about the news, I cried for six hours straight and ended up with the worst migraine of my entire life.

I visited her the day before yesterday. She isn't buried; she's wrapped in a blanket inside of a cellar freezer. I've been told that's gross and weird and ridiculous, but I think it's far from any of those. Having the ability to go down there and talk to Casey while holding her still soft and fuzzy body in my arms is one of the saddest and yet most calming things I am able to do at this point. When the ground thaws I will bury her, but as of right now, that is not at all possible.

She has two large, third-degree burns on her head, where her eyebrows would be. I know she died a horrible, painful, needless death and I can't go even half an hour without thinking about it. If only I had been there that day, if only, if only..

I keep her little bell collar next to my bed at night. Sometimes I put it in my pocket when I get up at night, it jingles as I walk to the bathroom, and in this way it calms me and no one hears so no one asks questions.

They say the dog is man's best friend and in many cases I believe that's true, but in my case, a kitten, not even a year old, held that place in my heart.