Five months ago I lost my cat of 19 years, died I mean.  DEAD.  Cancer, lots of IV fluids, chemo that did nothing.  Lots of money.  The magical part of it is that she waited until I came home from a Mexico trip so I could say goodbye.  I said goodbye to Kasha.  She looked so weak, I then said it is time to let go.  Ten minutes later she was dead.  I am not good with death.  Not a great conversation about it.  The WorldLegacy transformational trainings I have done have helped and it is a regular battle with being neutral about it.  After she died I was shocked, never saw it directly before.  I always had someone else deal with the dying part.  I wondered if she was really dead.  I touched her she was warm.  I didn’t want to box her up in case she was in a coma.  My friend “E”  said to put her body near the food just in case she wakes up.  Ha Ha.  Finally we boxed her up for the later burial.  She was cold by then.  And getting stiff.  I guess I had to let go of hope.  Damn.When I think of her I feel sad, and also guilty that I haven’t thought of her for a few days.  I can’t win.  Either filled with grief or a space of peace is tainted by a vague fear I could be not minding her enough in my heart.  The price of love is grief.  The price of unconditional commitment is grief.

So now the next cat is dying.  I hate when I buy turkey baby food because it means there is a cat in the house who needs to be tempted with food to eat.  And now I once again are giving sub Q fluids and look for any sign that shows me she will be around a bit longer.  I can send her energy and the hope that somehow my intention can shrink those tumors.  I can summon a lot of intention.  Maybe it will work this time.  She did go outside for awhile today.

So all the transformational work I have done at WorldLegacy has let me hear the BAD news and then hear my VET say, “Your cat is as old as dirt”  and not come through the phone and kill her.  I did write an angry email to her.  I need to force feed the cat some food.  Whatever it takes to have her be with me longer.  The price of hope is quite high.

Dr. Lori Todd