Thursday, November 08, 2001
It was about five after five when Marian called me. Our plans may have been for naught. Mary and the vet are with Opal now and sometime within the next twenty minutes, Erika's going to have to make a decision. The plans were to see a movie. Mary is Erika's mom, and Opal ... well, Opal was three pounds of cat and fifteen tons of attitude, and Erika had had her since Erika was 14 years old.
I arrived at the café at about 5:40pm like I usually do to help clean up and close it down. Marian had gone back home; Erika had made her choice. The movie was off, but that didn't bother me. Marian called at about 6pm, just as we were locking up. Do you want to come over for Opal's funeral?
It was all over, then. It shouldn't have been a surprise. Opal had been sick for a long time and it was actually quite amazing she lived as long as she did; sheer cussedness alone must have kept her going. But it was hard to think of no more little tiny cat to perch on your leg on the couch (she especially loved wool and denim), no more cat to give your cantaloupe rind or vanilla ice cream remains to.
Andra and I ate our take-out dinner at the café (bought when dinner was to be a quick thing before the 7 o'clock movie), talking about things as usual, but the sorrow over little Opal being gone kind of hung in the air like a thick fog. On the way to Marian's Andra decided it would be fitting to bring a funerary mousie toy to bury with her, as well as a scrap of wool.
I wasn't sure how I would react to seeing a cat I had seen alive, breathing, and making a nest on my lap just this past Sunday, now dead and lifeless. All the pets I had ever had had died out of my sight and never saw their bodies (I was either too young or too far away). Aside from my Pappo dying when I was three, I have not yet lost an immediate family member. For someone who watches and reads about forensic science and true crime as much as I do, my experience with actual death is pretty much limited to a classmate who died a year after our high school graduation. How strange it was to see him as if asleep yet definitely not alive surrounded by the soft satin of his casket. I still think about him often.
We entered Karl / Marian / Erika's house to find Marian, Karl, Mary, Josh (friend) and Jen (my housemate) talking together. They were dressed in coats and hats. Erika came out from the back part of the house and asked us if we wanted to see her (Opal) one last time. I was feeling a touch squeamish and asked, "Where is she?" Right there on the couch. I looked to see a lump of wool. Erika folded it back and there she was, curled up as if in sleep, the only indication she was dead was that her eye was slightly open and unblinking (I'd say "unseeing" but she had been blind in that eye). There was a miniature woven basket folded in with her (one of her favourite toys as a younger cat) and a flower. Andra laid the scrap of wool with her to keep her warm and the mousie so she'd always have something to play with and Erika's barely contained control broke and she started crying again; we all started crying. We pet her one last time, her tiny body still warm (more crying), before Erika folded the wool up again and placed her in her makeshift casket (a cardboard box).
Andra and I put our coats back on and in silence we all filed out the back door towards a back corner of the backyard, where Alexander (elderly boycat) had been laid to rest a couple of years ago. We formed a circle and Erika set the box down, picked up a shovel, and began digging a grave by flashlight. I'm sure the casual observer would have thought us some strange Satanic cabal performing a dark rite under cover of night. Everyone pitched in digging (except for myself; I was worried about my still-healing back). The box was set in, and we all bent down and scooped handfuls of dirt around the box, tears streaming out of my eyes. When we stood we all hugged Erika in turn. I know, some people think that a pet is just a pet, but when it's one you've had for more than half your life, its death hits you low and hard in the gut.
I'm almost glad that Erika had to pack to take a trip the following day (leaving for my home state early this morning), because it kept her busy. She found a pair of gloves that she'd lost two years ago, and some other things, and it was good to see her laughing. When she did finally sit down with some tea, she spoke of how strange it was to not see Opal appear out of nowhere to take her spot on Erika's lap. I agreed; we all did.
Andra and I went home and snuggled the cats.
