My Broken Heart
Today my wishes for a wonderful, loving home for my cats came true. Although my mind knows they're safe and that they'll be happy and loved and cared for, my heart is broken.
You have to be an animal person to understand the grief I'm going through. A piece of my soul was ripped out when I put each one of them in a carrier and heard their howls of unfathomable disagreement. It felt like death. The new people buckled the cats in the back seat and I knew it would be all right.
I think they've moved up in the world, they've gone to Hermosa Beach, which I would move to in a heartbeat, if I weren't already headed to Madrid. I really like the new person, she was so patient, kind and understanding, giving me time to tell my stories and let go. I'm relieved that they didn't need to go to a shelter. Two close friends recommended Pet Orphans in Van Nuys, they're a no-kill shelter. I finally filled out an application on Thursday, because I was almost losing faith.
Tonight's my first night without them in a year and a half.
Something's just not right. I close the door quickly so they don't run out, I reach up on the shelf for the toilet paper (they were fierce TP shredders!), I move around the apartment carefully, but they're not there. It won't be the same in the morning when I wake up without Hannah on my chest, crushing my lungs, or Sydney sniffing my face to make sure I'm still alive...
I thank all my friends, and their friends, and so on, for the help with finding them a home!