During Orbit's last few weeks and, especially, his last couple of days with us my wife worked tirelessly to help him eat. She tried countless brands and consistencies of canned food, held his food and water dishes to his mouth to make it easier for him to eat and drink, and helped him along when he showed signs of wanting to walk toward his dishes.
The first sign weeks ago that he was struggling was when he tried to get up on the futon, and he'd slip, unable to get his claws into the cushion. When he came toward us we knew to help him up, and once on our laps he'd settle right in as always.
During his last few days, especially, he was able to walk to his dishes, but then he'd just lay down in front of them, too tired or weak to stand and eat.
On his last day here with us I came home for lunch and knew he just wasn't doing well, and I sat with him on my lap until I had to return to work. Looking back now I wish I'd stayed home with him for the rest of the day. Had I known that would be his last day with us I would have held onto him as long as I could so we could reminisce about our long life together.
Losing a beloved pet is likely most difficult when you have to face it alone. I lost my dear old Isaac (see posts from summer/fall of 2011) at a time when I lived alone and kept to myself for the most part.
The sadness I struggled with then was overwhelming. Though losing Orbit was no less painful it has helped tremendously to have someone to share that grief with.
Enter "mom". Call it selfish, but sharing the sadness of this past week has made the burden slightly easier to bear. When we first brought Orbit into our home after not having him living with me for a short time I was concerned he and my wife wouldn't take to each other.
I was wrong in my thinking, and at times I think she's taken his passing harder than I. Sure, I've known him three times longer than she has, but they hit it off pretty well from the get-go, and the two of them have been together every single day since we moved south about four years ago.
My wife and I also find comfort in knowing that Orbit was in the best hands he could've ever been in when he needed medical care. Since moving to Wilmington we'd been taking him to Atlantic Animal Hospital, and we can't thank them enough for their excellent care and compassion they've shown, especially during this past week.
The day after Orbit passed away they sent us this beautiful arrangement.
And then just the other day we received this very thoughtful sympathy card from them, signed by the hospital staff.
We wanted a private cremation for Orbit, and we picked up his ashes this past Saturday. They gave him a beautiful polished urn for his final resting place, along with his paw print in clay and a sprig of rosemary, the herb of remembrance.
My co-workers also gave us a colorful arrangement, hand-delivered by my supervisor. Together they make a beautiful, thoughtful tribute to Orbit.
Though I'd previously taken it down since he was no longer able to manage the steps, we've since re-attached Orbit's perch, and we've placed this sweet memento on the upper step and top platform in his memory.
The urn, which is in my lap as I write (where Orbit spent nearly every morning in life) came with a brass plate, which we'll have engraved.
Although we've begun the process of dealing with all things Orbit, which has been a difficult task for my wife, especially, we've set aside some of his things. We're not in any rush to get rid of everything, we're just not ready to part with it. This past weekend my wife washed out his litter box, and rolled up the extra piece of carpet we kept under it.
She'd already washed out his dishes and put them away, and in time we'll decide what to do with the rest. There's no rush.
My wife and I are deeply moved by the outpouring of sympathy, kindness and understanding everyone here has shown during this very difficult time, and I wish I had the time to thank each and every one of you individually.
I have to go back to work today for the first time since Orbit passed away. Today will be the first day my wife will be home alone- truly alone.
She reminded me this morning that every time I've been away- at work, traveling to see the grandchildren, work conferences- Orbit was always here to keep her company. Our apartment is very small, but Orbit filled the place with, well, Orbit.
There are still reminders everywhere. I don't know which is worse, keeping those reminders around, or removing everything in an attempt to ease the pain of missing him.
We are overwhelmed with the number of kind words, purrs and prayers and sweet remembrances we've received for Orbit.
I'm not quite ready to retire Orbit's blog. I've had a few posts queued up, and want to share just a few more things, and I know he'd want me to. I can't keep it going forever without his input and direction, so I realize it's only a matter of time.
I will try my hardest not to beat this into the ground.
We miss him more than we'll ever be able to express. It's crazy how much of an impact such a small creature can have on two very sad people.
