Every time I sit down to write, to process how I'm feeling about River passing, I have been finding myself so easily distracted, so desiring of reasons not to sit down and do it. First, it was the need to "get settled" back home after having been away working in Toronto. Then it was shovelling snow. Then it was cooking and baking, to make sure I had all my "essentials" covered. Then it was "being there for Ezri" when she wanted to sit on my lap, because she's grieving too, right? After a while, I couldn't help but call myself out on it.

Part of me simply didn't want to accept that she was gone. Part of me still doesn't. I keep catching myself thinking that she's just going to walk out of the bedroom to get a sip of water to find a new sun beam to lie in like she always does... like she always did. I dream about her too. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night thinking she's on my lap like she had taken to doing in the last few months before her passing. Except it's not her. It's Ezri, one of my two other cats. And when I realize that, it's like I'm losing River all over again.

This is why it's so easy to want to just allow myself to be perpetually distracted. It's so much easier to turn away from the pain of grieving my loss because it makes you go through all sorts of gut-wrenching thought processes.

A River Runs Through It

River and her Sister Kaylee

River was of the only constants in our life since Chris and I first moved in together in BC nearly 15 years ago. She was there through all the big changes in our lives, getting married, going in and out of various jobs before developing solid careers in film, moving across the country, building our new home in Burnstown, which we were so grateful that she survived long enough to enjoy living in.

Her and her sister Kaylee were lively, active, talkative cats all throughout their lives. They used to race around the house together when they had "the zoomies." River loved to jump and climb to the highest places she could access. She figured out how to jump up to the highest window ledges from as low down as the couch arm. When she was outside, she would try to get to the top of the fence and up onto the roof. A couple of times she managed to succeed, leading to my having to climb all the way to the top of the roof to retrieve her. One time she even escaped from our open balcony door and roamed the rooftops of our townhouse complex for 3 days we found her, or more accurately, she just came back, pawing at the closed door to be let in.

The Tiny Runt with the Big Cattitude

And though she was tiny, the runt of her litter, she was fearless. She would approach visiting dogs and neighbour cats (on a leash), twice as big as her, with curiosity while the animals she approached often backed away sensing her confidence. She also had the loudest meow for such a tiny being. Even when she was a kitten, Chris and I remember walking in to get her, hearing her meowing loudly from another room. Not knowing it was her, we commented, "Wow, now that's a loud cat." Then this tiny little kitten came around the corner and the woman pronounced, "That's your cat."

The Cat that Fought Hard for Life

River was an old cat, 15.5 years old. After her half-sister Kaylee died from an undiagnosed chronic kidney disease, with all the stress she endured in losing her kitty companion, she developed irritable bowel disease soon after. We managed to control her condition with medication for nearly 5 years, never knowing exactly what was causing it. She went pancreatic three times, cheated death three times, after we managed to help her recover with the help of veterinary interventions and care.

The vets had always said that there may come a day when the medications would stop working or potentially start causing issues with her kidneys. I knew this in my heart and just didn't want it to be true when she started getting urinary tract infections several times over the past few months. But then she would bounce back and would be her usual spunky self, climbing up on the banister, calling out with her characteristically loud meows when she wanted to enjoy the sound of her own voice, playing with her toys, asking to be picked up and held then staying in my or Chris's arms kneading our skin with her paws, leaving little scratch marks from doing so. I now find myself looking at my arm, trying to find evidence of them, a scar to hold onto, anything, then cry when I realize they weren't deep enough to scar. She even started coming into the bathroom and hopping on my lap when I was sitting on the toilet, something she hadn't done in over a decade. They say that cats sometimes revert back to the energy and behaviours of their younger years when they are getting ready to die, and stay closer to their humans. It was something we took great joy in witnessing. And while they say some cats become louder in their vocalizations when they get closer to death, she was the opposite. She got much quieter. All she had the energy for was rubbing her face all over our hands as much as she could. This was River's way of saying goodbye, her way of letting us know that we were her humans.

Prioritizing Time with River

Over the holidays, Chris and I made conscious choices to cancel plans to travel away from home and visit family. We said it was because we didn't feel comfortable leaving River in the care of her amazing cat Grandma, my mother-in-law Lynnsey, knowing there was a chance that she might need emergency care at some point. But it was more than that. I think we both knew that this was going to be our last Christmas with our dear girl.

Over the last few weeks that we were all together as a family over the holidays, any time River asked for anything, no matter what we were doing, we dropped everything and gave it to her. We spent hours on the couch, cat-trapped with her on one of our laps, usually Chris's because she was especially bonded to him, and I would acknowledge that he had "cat privilege" and would dutifully get him anything he wanted while he was in service of River. I'm so glad we had that time before the holidays ended and we both ended up having to go to Toronto to work, first Chris, then me.

How Grief Bargaining Has Affected Me

Even though we had spent lots of time consciously being there for her, I still have pangs of regret. I wish I had had the foresight to recognize how precious little time left I had with her. I wish I had spent more time petting her, holding her, loving on her in the last few days before I left for Toronto. She just... seemed normal, even though she had had health issues. Thinking about how you should have done things differently is an element of "grief bargaining." As I write this, I also recognize that my desire to improve the diets of my other two cats is another form of grief bargaining. In a nutshell, it's something we do to feel a sense of control when we feel hopeless in our loss.

River's Final Days

At the hospital before saying goodbye

River had been eating well before I left. Though I know that I had had to increase her appetite stimulates gradually over the past few weeks to keep her eating well. Two days after I left, she stopped eating completely. We hoped it would pass like it had before, but it didn't. She then started having trouble making it to the litter box, in ways that were worse than previous times. We had her rushed to the emergency vet hospital, where she was put on an IV. After Chris finished work that Friday, he quickly drove back to Ottawa to be with her, while I was stuck working late that evening.

After a few hours, River seemed to turn around, like she had in the past when she was pancreatic. She started eating again that evening and we thought she might recover. But that was the last time she ever ate. Even with all the medications, the IV and the 24-hour vet care, she was deteriorating rapidly. The vet told Chris that if she was going to have any hope of recovery, she would need to be sedated and put on a feeding tube. Then we would have to do a number of diagnostics, some of which would be hard on her in her weakened state, to try and figure out what was wrong with her so she could be treated, and even then, we were told there was no guarantee that could figure it out and treat her in time. And in the meantime, she was clearly in pain. She was no longer able to live the life and be the spunky little queen of a cat that we knew and loved.

We knew it was time to let her go. As soon as we knew, I took the first flight back while Chris spent the afternoon in the hospital room with her, giving her constant love and reassurance, while cherishing this last precious time he had with her, after having been away in Toronto the week before. When I got there with my parents, who had picked me up from the airport, she seemed to perk up. My parents came in to pet her and say their goodbyes, having become more attached to her than they realized from us and all our cats having lived with them for two years while we were building our house in Burnstown. It broke my heart to see how much her life had impacted them.

After they left, I took the time to be with her too. I wanted her to know that we were both there with her until the very end. She nuzzled her face into my hand with as much energy as she could muster, while Chris and I cried uncontrollably. We sat there for what seemed like an eternity, not wanting our time with her to end while also not wanting her to continue to suffer. When the time came, we decided that Chris would hold her because she was always happiest in his arms, while I was petting her gazing softly into her eyes. As she slipped away, we both talked to her so that she hear our voices and could feel our presence and know we were there with her right up to the end.

The Disenfranchised Grief of Losing a Fur Baby

Chris and I never had children, by choice. Instead, we pour all our love into our family, friends, and our cats. I know not everyone understands the bonds we share with our feline family members. We talk to them, cuddle with them, play with them, sleep with them and love them deeply. Many people don't believe that cats bond as strongly with humans as dogs do, but that's simply not true. They aren't as demonstratively needy as dogs are trained to be, but when given regular love and affection they respond in kind. This was very much true for River and all our cats. Not everyone understands the pain of losing a beloved pet. For many, it is as hard as or even harder than the grieving the loss of a human family member.

One part of the reason relates to using euthanasia to give your pet a compassionate death, to free them from their pain. Many people agonize over having had to make this choice for their pet, constantly second guessing that choice, wondering if they had made the right one. It's not like when it is done for humans, especially when they make the choice for themselves ahead of time.

But even without euthanasia, many pet owners go through disenfranchised grief resulting from empathy failure. People deny their own pet grief because a part of them feels ashamed of it, like it isn't normal. At a societal level, there may be a mismatch between the depth of pet grief and social expectations around animal death. Some people react with contempt if someone misses work or takes leave to mourn a pet. When people anguish over the loss of a pet, disenfranchised grief makes it harder for them to find solace, post-traumatic growth and healing. It can restrain emotional expression in a way that makes it harder to process. More info about The Cultural Stigma of Pet Loss.

Jackson Galaxy created a video to help pet owners grieving the loss of their pet. He addresses the concept of disenfranchised grief and offers suggestions for processing grief, like naming and claiming your loss, accepting your loss (two things that I do through writing, like through this blog post), then incorporating loss into your life as you move forward, which comes with rituals and/or memorials that allow you to honour your loss.

How I've Been Incorporating River's Loss Into My Life

One of the things I do as my own ritual to incorporate River's loss into my life is to try to find the meaning in the loss, to try and learn from it. If there is one thing I want everyone to take away from the life of our River is that love is love, whether it is for a human or a beloved cat.

Part of me also can't help but wonder if the illnesses that both River and Kaylee had might have been averted if they had been on better quality food and/or all wet food. We had used "vet recommended" blends all their lives, and the food that our vet wanted us to use for River's IBD, specially formulated hypoallergenic wet and dry food, among them. But after doing more research, those foods, especially the dry food that we relied heavily on for most of their lives, may have put them on the road to developing their conditions. As such, we have decided to move our other cats over to all wet food diets with more meat protein and minimal preservatives. If this helps them to live longer, healthier lives, then in my mind, this helps give meaning to our loss of River. More info about what is so bad about dry cat food.

Another thing I do is to look for signs of the legacy that River left behind. She made as much of an impact on the lives of our other two cats as she did on us. Neither Ezri nor Jimmy ever kneaded (aka - "making biscuits") before settling into a spot, but after having spent several years with River, we have discovered that they both picked up that habit over time, probably from watching River. I also noticed that they both sometimes folds her arms up under her chest in the same way River did, especially Ezri. Seeing those behaviours in our remaining cats sometimes makes me cry, reminding me of River, but they are both sad AND happy tears. Seeing her legacy live on in Ezri and Jimmy comforts me deeply, knowing that she left this behind for us all.

Lastly, to honour her memory, in addition to writing this blog post, I also created a memorial video slide show with a collection of photos and videos from throughout her life that represent all the love and joy she brought to our lives. Sure, it's a little long, but I worked so hard to pare it down while still feeling like it captured the essence of her soul. It will be something we watch at least once a year, probably along with the one I made for her sister Kaylee since they both passed away around the same time of year. Here it is below:

How to Support Someone Grieving the Loss of a Pet

No one can understand the pain of a pet owner's loss, and if you know someone who is going through that and is struggling, acknowledge their grief and treat their loss with the level of care that you would for anyone losing a loved one. Try not to put your own judgments about it and just be there for them however they need the support. For me, the kind of support I appreciate is similar to the usual ways people support a person mourning the death of a family member. Being with my friends and able to talk or cry it out when I need to cry it out, or get out of the house and indulge in a distraction. Both are important to me. My parents brought me lots of prepared meals to take that burden off me for a few days while I was alone and mourning.

Offer people who are grieving genuine condolences. Even a simple "I'm sorry for your loss," from someone you don't even though that well, though it sounds trite, still can mean something. Sometimes it just helps to not feel alone in it, even in social media. A few people had their own special memories of experiences they had of River and I loved when people reached out and shared those.

While some people like to give traditional gifts like cards, etc, and many people appreciate those kinds of things, one of the best things someone did to pay their respects to River was make a donation to a cat rescue of our choosing. There is something about that, about paying it forward to help the cats in the world who still need love and support, the feeling that River's passing has now gone on to do just that. It really warmed my heart. But at the end of the day, every person appreciates different things, and the best thing you can do when someone is really struggling, is just be there for them if you're close to them. And if you're not super close and you want to do something, ask someone who is close what sorts of things they might appreciate.

Here are a number of animal rescues that are doing good things, both here in the Ottawa area, and back in BC where, if you're looking to make a donation, foster a cat or dog, or even better, adopt one:

Have you ever lost a beloved pet? What helped you get through the grieving process? Please share your thoughts in the comments.