Two weeks ago today, my beloved dog Asia accidentally killed our new kitten. They had loved each other at first sight so I wasn’t as vigilant as I should have been while Asia was eating. I had every opportunity to pick Onyx up and move him out of harm’s way. I didn’t. I was the only one there. Asia gave a defensive warning nip and it broke Onyx’s neck instantly, which didn’t keep him from seizing and bleeding all over the floor. J came in at just the right time and we held him until he finally stilled. The girls saw nothing.
I have deleted every trace of him from our house and photo collection. All that’s left is one more grave in the Cat Cemetery in the backyard. No one blames Asia. No one blames me. But *I* blame me. I killed my family’s joy, after they so recently lost another young cat. I had every chance to prevent that horrific event, and I couldn’t. I DIDN’T.
We thought we had a line on another kitten, and a plan to keep it safe, but that fell through. Now there are no plans. We didn’t celebrate Mother’s Day. I finally bought myself a watch at Big Lots and it was broken. Only what I deserve. Everything I touch dies. Even Kenya died when j was out of town.
I thought time would heal. But it hasn’t, I’ve gotten worse. I have been in bed for three days and eaten very little and I can’t make myself recover from this. The girls think I have the flu.
My one hope is that by feeling so deeply I will prevent the trauma headache which always seems to follow such an event, invariably sending me to the ER. So far that has been avoided. But part of me would rather feel that pain than this pain.
I just want to sleep, and sleep, and sleep.
The ultimate over-sharer, I told no one. I hope this blog post will help me finally begin to forgive myself.