The Seasons and Stages of Life
“By all the lovely tokens September days are here, with summer’s best of weather and autumn’s best of cheer” – Helen Hunt Jackson
If you follow us on social media you know our oldest boy Rugby has been battling some issues that come along with old age since last winter. He’s had a great couple of months and for that we are so thankful. However his body now grows weaker and our remaining time is short.
I remember losing my first cat. His name was Smokey and he was a dark grey Persian with yellow eyes. When he fell ill my parents tried all that was medically available but the time came where my mom feared he would suffer. The time was her decision and our vet came out to the house. I remember holding him while she pushed the anesthesia, watching him fall asleep. I remember how it felt when he died in my arms. We put him in a casket with his favorite toys and buried him in the garden. I stayed outside until nightfall, then panicked and collected all the candles I could find so that I could light them around his grave. I had just started my sophomore year in high school and my younger self hated the thought of him being outside alone in the dark.
I don’t remember much after the candles. Time passed and we adopted two Himalayan brothers named Coco and Sugar. They were loved and lived with my parents well into their teens. When they passed I was living on my own with Guinness and Rugby. The loss of Sugar and Coco felt sad but somewhat distanced and peripheral.
A good friend of mine joined me for sunset the other night and said “our pets are like little piggy banks of unconditional love that we pour all our thoughts, feelings and emotions into”. This description rings so true, and helps me understand why entering this phase with Rugby seems to have opened the flood gates to 17 years of nostalgia. The first pet 100% my own responsibility. And nearly two decades of time shared with him.
As I sit with him and listen to Spotify’s “This is John Mayer” playlist on repeat (long time favorite artist of mine whose songs bring to mind specific times in my life) my mind opens it’s filing cabinet of memories Rugby has been present for.
Bringing him home at 12 weeks old in 2002 and watching him snuggle himself against my pillows in the center of my bed. I was 23 and living in my first apartment in Atlanta after graduating from college.
Taking him and Guinness to visit my parents each Christmas. Just like kids visiting grandparents, I’d set their carrier down in the kitchen and both would stroll out about their second home where nothing was strange or unfamiliar.
Him laying on my chest and purring as I sobbed over losing a job… losing a relationship… growing up.
His fluffy little self curled into a ball snoozing in his favorite spot on the back of the couch in the first home I shared with my husband Andrew. This mental image spans seasons as the beautiful maple tree outside our living room window would shade the light through cycles of orange and red, to cold winter white, and back to lush green.
And now, the other night when we took him to see the ocean for the first time. How he watched the sunset with a peaceful knowing look on his face, as though he were thinking and feeling the same things as I was.
I certainly don’t share this to bring anyone down, rather I need to speak my feelings and acknowledge this process. I recognize this moment in time brings with it lessons to learn and grow from. One realization is hope that the space we are creating with Cat & Craft is one where you will feel safe to feel. Where stories of your loved ones are always welcome. I promise to have a stock of Kleenex on hand for us at all times. And together we will count on the silly furry mob of foster fur babies to provide us with the necessary comedic relief and bright joy of good times ahead.
With Love and Light,
Caroline