Four months ago, my parents rescued a tiny kitten from certain calamity. From a life on the streets where she would have probably lasted a few more days at best, this little thing went to living like a princess, cossetted by the entire family and our 2 dogs, who are very nurturing, loving creatures. However this kitten liked to live dangerously. It would always 'escape' from our house for a few hours, managing to return unscathed. This week her luck ran out. She went up to a gang of stray dogs (being entirely unafraid because she lived with our pooches). They attacked her and would have killed her, if not for a neighbor who rescued her and brought her in. She seemed physically fine, other than being in severe shock. She did not eat or and barely moved for 2 days. On the 3rd day, we thought she was turning a corner and were so relieved. Then yesterday, my mom told me that she just started mewling and crying and just died. Bloodwork revealed signs that she had probably had a severe heart attack when the dogs attacked.
She had so much personality and life and guts, despite being so tiny, I cannot believe she is gone.We had her for such a short time, I only spent a month with her but she inspired love, she was just so full of life. Before June of 2010, I had personally never been acquainted, in any way, with death. Then came the loss of my first baby, then our beloved Labrador (she was 10 years old), then my second baby, and now this completely unexpected death. I've received a crash course in how very fragile life can be and it is a horribly disconcerting feeling.
Although we really are emotionally strong, I'm also realizing how deep our capacity for hurt is. Being so darned vulnerable sucks. I cannot do anything about it, I just pray the grim reaper is done with me for a long, long time.