Goodbye, Chester | Personal

I’m an animal lover. At no point of my life have I been without a pet—from relatively normal mammals like dogs and hamsters, to slightly weirder (and not totally advisable) reptiles like iguanas and turtles. But none of them has been as important to me as our cats. Yep, I’m one of those people.

I’m a cat lady.

When I was 12, I was pretty certain I wanted to be a veterinarian. So, in all my pre-teen wisdom, I sent out letters to every local animal hospital asking if I could volunteer once a week. To my surprise, one said yes, and I spent each Wednesday of my summer between seventh and eighth grade assisting in everything from routine office visits to blood draws, medical tests and surgeries. In hindsight, this was probably in violation of an endless number of labor laws, but I adored every minute of it, because I’m an animal lover. Even cleaning kennels was enjoyable to me.

One mid-August morning I arrived to the office to find that overnight someone had tied to the front door knob a garbage bag filled with five, day-old kittens, covered in afterbirth and ants—a tragic mess, both physically and emotionally. We cleaned up and cared for the kittens (two black and white, two gray, one orange), bottle feeding them every two hours, bathing them, warming them in towels, piling them into a wriggling, mewling mound. A heart-melting, precious, wriggling, mewling mound.

Despite our round-the-clock care, only two kittens (one gray, one orange) survived. For some reason—perhaps the fact that he was an obvious fighter, clutching the bottle with a ferocity unexpected for his tiny frame; perhaps the fact that I had the hormones of a 12-year-old girl—I formed an unusually strong attachment to the orange kitten, and through some miracle, convinced my parents to let me adopt him, despite already having two family cats at home.

By the time he came to live with me permanently, he was a whopping three inches long. I named him Chester. Behold:

I’m sitting here, absolutely balling looking at this photo.

Because Chester never had a momma cat, the unnaturally strong attachment I had to him was mutual. And it made him quirky and weird and perfect. He followed me everywhere. He slept on my chest, tucked neatly beneath my chin. He meowed with a cadence more similar to human speech than to normal cats. He developed a deep and abiding love for recently-worn shoes. He so thoroughly enjoyed having his ears scratched that doing so acted as a temporary paralytic, stopping him in his tracks no matter his current activity. Plus, he was darned handsome.

One of my favorite memories was from several years ago when I was living on the other side of the country: My mom and dad called me early in the morning and left me a voicemail singing me Happy Birthday. In a moment of silence at the end of their song, Chester let out an expertly-timed meow. I must have listened to and laughed at that message a hundred times. It was perfect. :)

I realize that to some people this might seem ridiculous, but today, just two months shy of his 17th birthday, I’ve lost a very good friend. This afternoon I held in my arms for the last time a sweet and gentle creature for which I’ve cared for well over half of my life, that I’ve loved and bonded with in a way never matched by another animal.

This afternoon I said goodbye to Chester and cradled him as he was put to sleep. And I am completely heartbroken.

By the end he was skinny, with ragged fur and a raspy voice. He was in kidney failure and developed a large tumor that had infiltrated his lungs. And yet he was still his loving, happy, bright-eyed self—in some ways a blessing and a curse. I am grateful to have spared him pain, but my heart aches to have lost him while he was still enthusiastic to have his ears scratched, to drool on my shirt, to rest his forehead on my chest, and to bask in the sunshine.

My plan is to place his ashes inside a recently-worn shoe and bury him in his favorite sun spot in my parents’ front yard, where you were almost guaranteed to find him on warm days. I think he would appreciate that.

For 17 years I have cherished him, and today I am heartbroken. Goodbye, my sweet and quirky friend. I love you.

June 14, 2012 - 1:17 pm

Lauren + Björn | Engaged » MEF Photography Blog! […] had an absolutely, downright, completely, 100-percent awful day yesterday. I’m actually running late in my blogging schedule, too. And I realize this sounds like a […]

Your email is never published or shared. Required fields are marked *

*

*

There was an error submitting your comment. Please try again.