Sasha

For Sasha… They say cats usually choose their people, but with Sasha, it was different. With Sasha, I chose her, all by myself, with the wish that she would be happy together, connected, with reciprocal love and affection. Sasha came from the streets, with a cut ear to prove it, a tiny frame, and a deep-seated fear of cars. At first, she was a fighter. She used her nails every time I tried to hold her, her way of protecting the little bit of safety she had, and with time, she mellowed, she became affectionate, slept at my feet every night, and came every morning at 5AM or 5:32AM to wake me up with her little paw on my face, so I can feed her her delicious wet food. Sasha wasn’t just my pet, she was my friend, my teddy bear, my little one, the one I cared for the most. Sasha was fun, happy, cute, discreet, well behaved, elegant, curious, an epicurean, and a very very distinguished gourmand! I still see her running towards me when I open the apartment door, her little body dancing from happiness, putting a smile on my face every time. I still turn around expecting to find her staring at me when I open the fridge. I still say her name when I get home, expecting her warm greeting. I feel the lack of her presence all around me. I feel her absence on my desk, that large emptiness now showing itself. My apartment seems bigger now that all her things have gone missing from it. No more ceramic plate, no more food dispenser, no more water fountain, no more litter box, no more beds all over the rooms, not more destroyed suitcase, no more toys, no more scratchers, no more leash, no more Halloween costumes, no more name tags, it’s all gone, all from another time now. This was my beautiful affectionate life with Sasha, all before that fatal Thursday, March 12th, when the doctor announced she had cancer and was in the terminal stage of her life. It took me some time to understand what I was hearing…. it took me some time to accept it… how, why, what? I knew she was sick. She wasn’t herself this past week, she seemed to have lost weight, she wasn’t eating as much, had low energy, and was sleeping more. Then came Wednesday, when I found her sleeping, hiding in an unusual place in my bedroom. I wasn’t sure what it was, but she followed me to the kitchen when I woke up to feed her, she ate, she drank water, she was moving. So I thought maybe it’s this wet food she is not liking again. I went to work, and when I came back, I saw something was wrong in her breathing, and immediately called her vet: “bring her to the emergency room”. I did. They took her in right away, Ivy drip, stabilized her. When I went back on Thursday, blood transfusion, biopsy, the verdict was in… That word I never thought could be linked to a pet… Cancer… I had 2 options: Chemo, or euthanasia, but only a 30% chance for her to accept the Chemo, which would increase her life to 2 years max, 6 months likely… I didn’t know what to do… needed some perspective, because I couldn’t think straight… And Sasha was suffering… I tried everyone close to me, nobody seemed available. It’s not like people are waiting by the phone to be asked feedback on the death of a cherished one! Luckily my dear friend picked up right away. I will never forget it. I needed a voice, I needed to feel someone was there, listening, how can I let my little Sasha go? Why? How? And after 8hours by her side in this white and green hospital, I decided to say goodbye… Making the choice to let you go was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but I did it out of love, to ensure you wouldn’t have to fight a battle you couldn’t win, to ensure you wouldn’t suffer more. I hope you understand… Goodbye my Sasha, Thank you for giving me 4 years of beautiful love, companionship, and presence. Goodbye my dear dear Sasha. I am sorry if your life wasn’t longer. I am so sorry you suffered. And I hope you are at peace now. I hope you are happy. I hope you feel free, loved, and healthy. I will never forget you… Rest easy my little Sasha… Rest well, my dedicated girl… May your heart rest in peace…