gone

My cat died yesterday. I took him to the vet and he had a needle of anaesthesia which killed him, gently. I know because I was there. The vet with the lazy eye and kind face put the needle in his arm where it was still shaved for the drip last week, and I patted him and encouraged him to lie down, with his head to one side. He mewed a little bit when the needle went in (I closed mey eyes for that bit so that my hands would transmit more calm than panic)and then just sank down, and then before I even realised, he'd stopped breathing. Just evaporated the life out of him with a little puff. I expected some kind of fight, some movement, and for him to look bleakly different, resoundingly dead - he didn't, he just looked the same but not breathing. Felt the same too, as I patted him a few times after the breath had stopped, as it didn't seem like a dead cat, it seemed like my cat, just not breathing, and like he needed a few pats for reassurance after what he'd just been through. I cried as I paid, and tried not to catch the eye of any of the people who had suddenly appeared and filled the waiting room while I was in there. Me, with an empty cat carier, and them with baskets of kittens. The vet nurse was so kind, with big sad eyes and a genuine 'I'm so sorry', probably at the ridiculous moment of processing a payment on my card to have my cat killed and disposed of. Not your usual eftpos transaction. I kept my head low and headed for the door, where one of the many Saturday morning pet people held the door open for me and gave me a head nod in a way that made me realise that everyone in that small room was watching me leave.
I cried as I walked down the street to home. Quietly, but letting myself be sad and not getting anxious about the fact that I might cry in front of people, which I often do. I knew my eyes were red and my face looked swollen, but it seemed symbollically significant to be able to be amongst the throng of people with grief there too, not denied.
I've cred since then too, one wave of tears for my cat, frail and old and the loss of him and his companionship and loyalty and love. Another wave of tears for the gap he leaves, for my own loneliness, and the feeling of being unconnected. At least I know from experience that when you are sad is not the best time to make accurate asessments of your life, that maybe the flattened and bare landscape will look a little bit rosier and sketched in with heartening details later.