Shadows and Sunlight
It’s been a shadowy 2024 so far.
While there is lots of sunlight, there’ve been some dark shadowy days.
Today is one of them. Not just because the weather is rainy. I like that it’s rainy and dreary today because it gives me an excuse to wrap myself in a blanket, cuddle up with Champy, and feel a little sorry for myself for just a few hours.
Most of you know me as always focusing on the light, the happy things. Kitties lives helped, saved, enriched. Good people doing great things. I’m just that “glass half full” kind of person. Pollyana, some call me.
That’s how I roll because I feel like I am one of the most fortunate people on the planet. Oh, and there is that thing of living up to my name. Geez, how can I be a bitchy pessimist with a name like “Joy?”
But some days have more shadows then light.
Last night, I took one of my fosters, Stevie, to the UC Davis ER for a blood transfusion. Admittedly, we went there knowing it was the last effort to save this sweet boy. But all indications were that if we got him past the very severe anemia, he could move to fighting the disease that had put him in that condition. I left feeling optimistic. I even joked with the vet about not talking to him until this morning because I don’t like to get those middle-of-the-night calls from the hospital. When we have a hospitalized kitty, no news is good news.
The phone did ring at 2:30 AM. We lost Stevie.
He was the third foster kitty I lost since New Year’s Eve. Joyce was the little calico with the brain anomaly that we lost to seizures on NYE. Earlier this week, darling Etincelle, the kitty with the burns from the house fire was seen by our veterinarian and moved to another foster. One of our most experienced fosters who I knew was a more perfect place for her to grow to adoption-hood than with me. She suddenly passed away with no warning or seeming cause.
Then Stevie.
My soul is hurting today. I miss each one of them. I grieve for each young life that should have had a long love-filled kitty life. Each one came to us referred by other veterinarians because they know those kitties with very little hope have a great chance here at FieldHaven. What an honor it is to have that reputation and respect but, dammit, it leads to heartbreak sometimes.
Of course, none of us are going to stop doing this even knowing we’ll have days like this. But, just for today, I’m going to coddle my soul. Champy is here helping me with that.
In talking with my friend, Casey, this morning she sent this to me:
“The more cats you help the more you lose, sadly, and you also you have evolved to such a place that the most difficult cases come to you. Its not bad they leave us, joy, they leave us to help make room for more and to also teach us lessons that are always the gift.
Its super important to feel that devastation and to be pissed off. Life is a bitch and there is no rhyme or reason to why my cats lived and have this cushy existence with me and others have nothing but suffering. I think the deeper meaning is that any cat you touch dies with dignity, and I do think that is such an Incredible gift. They do not suffer anymore, and their last moments are knowing love and human compassion. Their souls are at peace”
– Casey Hersch, LCSW
Words to ponder during this shadowy, stormy day. The light and sunlight will be back tomorrow.
Peace, love and purrs,
Joy
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