I keep thinking about how much more viscerally I reacted to Shanti's death than I did to my own mother's. Seems a little backward, right?

Well, not necessarily. I have already realized there is a logical explanation for this. The simple fact is that the last time I saw Shanti, it was a deeply traumatic experience. My mind races to what kind of pain or trauma she may have experienced in her last moments. I'll never know, and that's part of the struggle.

The last time I saw Mom, for the Christmastime visit in Wallace in December 2019, it was a lovely occasion. She was doing fine. It's a wonderful last memory of my mom that I cherish. If nothing else, this experience with Shanti only strengthens my resolve that not going to see Mom in the hospital, unconscious and hooked up to tubes with no chance of waking up, was the right decision. I had two different nieces visit her like that, and they both told me independently at the time that it was so awful to see her like that, even they felt I made the right choice.

We all have our reasons for the decisions we make, of course. Others might feel it was right for them to see her like that, and that is absolutely valid. I am only saying that, for me, when it comes to my mother's passing, I have no regrets.

Granted, I would have had some measure of preparedness if I had gone to see Mom, and I had no idea I would come home to find Shanti the way I did, hanging by one front leg with a claw snagged on the underside of a dining table, her head turned unnaturally around where it hung not quite reaching the floor. Mom, at least, was in a hospital bed and already under medical care. Nevertheless, even with Shanti's death still so fresh, and even considering the complicated and strained relationship I had with my mother for years, a cat and my mother are worlds apart, completely different things, and entirely—excuse the expression—different animals. It's been four years since Mom passed and I still have moments that trigger pangs of surprising grief, in a way I am certain will not be happening with the memory of Shanti four years from now.

My point is, as horrible as seeing Shanti like that was, seeing Mom in her final days would have been exponentially more traumatic. And for what? I'd have had a different attitude about this if she were conscious, but with no hope of her waking up, I'd have only been visiting her for my own sake, incongruously giving myself a horrendous final memory of her in the process. The decision I made makes it a lot easier to feel comfort in how I honor her memory as time goes on. Given what I've been through just in the past 12 hours, I shudder to think of putting myself through something even far worse when Mom died.

We all protect ourselves however we can. When Mom passed, I had some agency in that matter. When Shanti died, I had far less. It was the shock and trauma of how I found her that has affected me far more than her death alone. I'm still getting over it, spending the day feeling okay most of the time, then suddenly thinking of the sight of her like that and getting a sort of zing-pang of a grief trip. I think I was wise to take the day off work today. I would have been distracted all day.

In the meantime, Guru seems a little anxious today. Shobhit has of course shifted all his attention to the one cat we have left rather than the two we had yesterday, and he continues to display a lack of understanding how animals do not process emotions the same way humans do. I suspect Guru's clear anxiety today is indeed connected in some way to Shanti, but I actually don't think even he knows or understands that. He just senses something is off and that's making him anxious. At least he's snoozing on one of the dining table chairs (not the one Shanti was found under), which is a very normal thing for him, as I write this.

Shobhit has also shifted to some more focus on when Guru might go as well, being really convinced that he will likely also go soon. I instinctively resist such conjecture; at age 16, he is indeed a geriatric cat, and both of their days have been numbered for a few years now. But, in spite of how he's also gotten relatively lean—7.5 lbs—he's comparatively in good health right now, and may very well last another while, a year or two, even more. Of course, he could also last less. One thing occurred to me that might strengthen Shobhit's argument: Shanti and Guru were litter mates and therefore share the same genetics. And if it was a genetic thing that made Shanti decline when she did, it's entirely possible Guru will go soon after. Without any genetic testing, though, there's no way to know, so it's just as possible that he will continue on for a while.

We were told by Timberline Veterinary last night that the people who pick up pets for cremation would be in for their pickup this morning, and her remains should be ready for pickup within 24 to 48 hours. They gave the option of having them mailed directly to us, or for us to come pick them up at the vet hospital there in Lake City. Shobhit immediately said we would come and pick her up there: "I don't want her to be sent through the mail." I would have been fine with that, but if this is what makes Shobhit more comfortable, I'm fine with this too.

It's just so strange to consider the events that unfolded yesterday—and I mean not just the moment I found her, but in the context of the whole day. Shobhit had suggested a couple of days ago that one day this weekend we go out for breakfast, at a bakery he had discovered on Roy Street called The French Guys, about a block west of the north end of Broadway. I had a SIFF movie screening Saturday morning at 11:30, so I said Sunday was the better option. As soon as we walked out the door, we ran into Alexia out in the hallway.

Shobhit told her even then that Shanti was not doing well, and invited her inside to see her, as it may be the last time she saw her. Indeed, it was—and by the time I was weeping in Alexia's arms last night, and then we were hanging out together waiting for Shobhit to get home from work, she mentioned having come in to see her. "Oh that was just this morning?" I said. By that point, when Alexia had come in to say hi—and, ultimately, goodbye—to Shanti, that felt like it had been a month ago.

And Alexia recognized it immediately: "Oh, she's not happy," she said. At that time, she was in her usual spot on the couch, probably her favorite spot in the whole condo. She snuggled with Shobhit there a lot, something I think Shobhit is going to be missing for some time to come.

Shobhit and I had been slightly butting heads a little, in regards to when we might need to take Shanti to the vet to be put down. He specifically told me not to make any appointments for this week. In retrospect, it's tempting to say I should have; thinking she'd last until next week was a pipe dream. But the thing is, even if I had convinced Shobhit to make an appointment this week, it would have been made for Monday (today) at the soonest, just because City Cat's office is only open Monday through Wednesday. What happened yesterday would have happened regardless.

I was really afraid Shobhit would lay blame on me for what happened, largely fueled by his own grief, because I was gone when it happened, and not at work like he was, but to a movie. Instead, so far at least, he's taken the kind of opposite track: he keeps rehashing it, but coming to the conclusion that it was nobody's fault, that it might have happened even if we were home. I could have been in the bedroom and not had any idea. She was likely too weak to make much noise when her claw got snagged, however it was that happened. If he were at home, Shobhit spends more time in the living room than I do so he'd be more likely to have found her, but she might very well have died in that scenario anyway.

I had been giving her snuggles right before I left for the movie, around 5:00. I was home probably sometime around 8:30, when I found her. Her body was still limp when I detached her claw from its snag, but clearly at worst she could not have been dead longer than three hours when I found her. Her body didn't even start going stiff, at least not that I saw, until she was laid on the blankets at Timberline Veterinary. The eternal question is still how long she was stuck with the snag like that until she died, and that's something we will never know.

I don't know what I can do about how hard it is not to think about that, what kind of pain she may have been in for who knows how long until she finally let go. Shobhit had been giving her all the attention he could while she was still at home the past week, convinced she was about to go—I was not certain her death was so imminent, and certainly did not expect to find her dead already when I got back home from my movie last night. A day or two ago, Shobhit was snuggling with her on the sofa, and actually said to her, "It's okay to let go," and it was a little heartbreaking. Right now, I guess time is the only thing for us: that's what it's going to take for me to even start putting the whole ordeal behind me.

The grief keeps coming and going. Having decided not to work today, this morning I finally wrote my review for the sixth and final SIFF 2024 movie I saw last night, a charming Greek gay movie called The Summer with Carmen. I had fully intended to write it last night, which was a big reason I rode my bike to the theater and back, as cycling gets me home the fastest and would give me more time to get it done before I went to bed. Of course, the any thoughts about that movie flew right out of my head the moment I found Shanti.

I'm a little calmer today, and still wanted to get a review written. We didn't even leave for Timberline Veterinary until after 9:30 last night. The staff there was wonderful, including the nurse brought out to answer Shobhit's question about how we can best comfort Guru. (She explained that animals don't experience the loss of a family member the way we do, and the best thing we can do is just keep an eye on him for a while to make sure there's no major behavior changes.) I didn't get to bed last night until around midnight, but I still managed to get the review done and posted this morning by about 8:30. Of course, it's already been buried in the outpouring of responses to my post about Shanti passing, which as I write this, already has 32 reactions and 38 comments. (My post in 2020 about Mom passing ultimately got 41 reactions and 48 comments, and that's after four years. It's fairly likely the Shanti post will get more on both counts. Not that this is a contest! Even though I had an objectively better relationship with my cat than I did with my mother, an easy thing for Shanti to accomplish since, you know, she wasn't human.)

Shobhit also worked 5 to 9 on Saturday, before which he also spent a lot of time giving Shanti attention. On that day, I went to see the SIFF movie Sebastian at 11:30, and that day I took the bus as it was a rainy day. I managed to catch a #8 bus practically the moment I got out of the Uptown Theater, getting me home right at 2:00. Laney and I planned to meet outside my building at 2:45 so we could walk down and do the Happy Hour at Olympia Pizza and Spaghetti House III up on 15th Avenue E, which started at 3:00. This gave me precisely 45 minutes to write my review, and it usually takes me longer than that—but this one, I finished and got posted just under the wire. The pizza there was good and we both felt that, although it's one of the more expensive places otherwise, we would go back again, particularly for Happy Hour.

We sat outside, and our waitress had to come outside at one point when a transient person had stopped next to us and wouldn't stop talking nonsense, much like the guy had when Laney and I did "Traffic Island Cocktails" during my Birth Week. Aside from that, I can't remember anything else we chatted about, really. Yesterday's events have overshadowed basically the entirety of the weekend. I did come home and spent the evening alone with the cats, while Shobhit was at work that night. I gave Shanti some attention, and like on Sunday, she would have moments when she seemed out of it, and other times when she seemed to have brief moments of clarity (or a cat, anyway).

The average life of an indoor cat is 12 to 16 years, and both Shanti and Guru were at the upper end of that range—specifically, they both turned 16 on March 1 of this year. I mention this to Shobhit, and as is many people's instinct, he mentions how many cats he's heard of that lasted over 20 years. I had to point out there are many exceptions, but we're talking about averages here. We can always hope for more with our cat, but the stats are kind of stacked against them. It's a little like hoping to win the lottery.

Shobhit picked up more hours at work today—I forgot he had done the same yesterday; in both cases a coworker called out so they asked if he would come in early. This was why he was unable to join me yesterday for the U District Street Fair, which we had originally planned to go to after going out for breakfast. The breakfast wound up being the only thing we had time for before he had to go to work. In any case, he's at work today while I am at home, with no plans at all today, alone all day with Guru. He has settled down a little, and is still snoozing on the chair.

Shobhit is now, of course, really worried about how lonely Guru will be any time we leave him alone, particularly when we go to Toronto next month. The single thing I am grateful for about the timing of Shanti's death is that we won't have to worry about her in regards to our trip, with someone taking care of her in such a frail state or the possibility of her dying at a time that would affect the trip. Guru will miss us, I am certain, but he won't miss us any more than he would have with Shanti around. It has been years since the two cats had really anything to do with each other. They rarely laid next to each other anymore, and the most interaction they had was smelling each other's assholes.

I did really want to catch them doing that to each other on video sometime. I had a dream of posting that on TikTok with the song "The Circle of Life" from The Lion King playing. I guess that dream is gone.

[posted 12:42 pm]