Dealing with the death of a pet
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Two nights ago I got the sad phone call from my mom. She phoned to let me know that one of our cats had passed away. And as sad as I was, I couldn’t help but think how fortunate I am to have not had to deal with the death of a family pet as a kid, like most people do. Serena was roughly 15 years old, which is an amazingly long life for a cat. And we still have another cat who is even older, 19 years old, and he’s still kickin.
With the bad news came the obvious question: What did you do with her? My mom went silent and responded that I didn’t want to know. Right away I envisioned my dad insensitively throwing her in the trash can like a pair of old socks and I felt myself getting angry. My mom then told me the story of why this had to be, which actually brought some humour to the situation.
After her death, my parents naturally went outside with a shovel and attempted to dig a hole for Serena to be buried in. But the ground was frozen solid. After some unsuccessful attempts of digging, they had to come up with a plan B: to place her in the ditch. This seemed like a good idea since it was the closest thing to a grave. But when they walked to the ditch and saw how big and open I was, they just didn’t have the heart to leave her exposed to elements of nature and being able to see the progression of her decomposition.
My parents were growing desperate, leading to plan C: to bury her in the freezer until Spring time when they could properly bury her. My dad pitched this idea to my mom, but she said there was no way she felt okay with the idea of pulling out something for dinner and seeing their dead cat next to it. Somehow the idea of having a dead cat next to a roast didn’t seem too appealing.
My mom then suggested burning her. After all, she thought, people are cremated and that’s normal. She left it up to my dad to build the fire and put her body in it, but my dad who has the weakest stomach in the world, just couldn’t do it. It just didn’t seem right to throw her in a fire and watch her burn away. Besides, they wouldn’t have a way to keep the ashes.
They ran out of ideas, and so they had to put her to the side of the road. They put her in a proper box and said their goodbyes. And they kept her in a separate bag from the last nights leftovers and empty toilet paper rolls. As much as I wasn’t okay with the idea of my childhood pet ending up in a dumpster somewhere and not in our backyard, I have to give it to my parents for really trying everything to avoid this. And when it was their only option, they did it in the best way they possibly could. So Serena, wherever you may be, may you now be able to rest in peace. And thanks for being such a great pet!
