Here one day, gone the next

We have sad news. Catsby got hit by a car in front of our house yesterday and died. There is no softer way to say it.

Dave called when I was at Target with Edie to tell me. It was so strange to hear while standing in between the toys and the bib aisle. I had just browsed the pet aisle to see if they had any decent cat bowls.

There was no saving her, and the person who hit her didn't stop. One moment she was alive, playing in the neighbor's yard, bolted across our residential street at the wrong time, and met her fate. A few of our neighbors were incredibly kind and helpful at the distraught scene. Dave was going to figure out what to do with her, either bury her or bring her to the vet's office for cremation. It was my duty to tell Edie. I told her in the Target check-out line, which felt so cheap, but it didn't feel right to keep it from her either. I talked to her about it again once we were home, and she asked for her cat.

I told her that Catsby got in an accident and was gone, we weren't going to see her anymore, and she went in cat heaven. I said she could still dream of Catsby though. Edie just asked me "Why?" with a concerned look in her eye, but she didn't cry. So a two year old doesn't fully grasp the concept of death. Do any of us?

Ugh. Losing a pet sucks, and I think only pet lovers truly understand. Catsby was a newer addition to our lives. I don't think we'd even reached our one-year anniversary as her owners, but Dave and I adopted her as a gift for Edie, and she was a great pet. I've mentioned how much Edie fawned over her little buddy. She was humane, and loving, and recently started feeding Catsby with just a little bit of help. Every time Dave or I got Edie up from a nap, we asked what she dreamed about. She always says, "Catsby". I don't want to ask her that for a while.

Pet-adoption authorities highly advocate for keeping cats indoors. They drive the adoption conversation like this: "Your cat will stay indoors, right?" Dave and I even fielded some dirty looks from our neighbors' visiting mother who was obviously judging our decision to let Catsby outside. We both had happy outdoor cats when we were kids, and frankly, they seem less squirrelly, more fit, and less likely to claw the guts out of your furniture than their indoor brethren. Furthermore, Catsby loved going outside and who were we to stop her?

Of course, now I feel bad that we let her out. Although outdoor cats generally live shorter (more exciting) lives, I didn't think it'd be that short. Two years? Whatever happened to nine lives and all that?

I want to adopt another cat. Owning an animal taught Edie about the world, and I like the way she felt on my lap while watching t.v. Next time though, we might keep our little friend inside. We'll see.