Sleeping in the sun. A portrait of light and shadow.
Too soon comes the long sleep for my grey boy.
Was sleeping in the sun his undoing?
Seeing into the beyond,
With all my heart I hope he is getting a travel advisory
From a bodhisattva of compassion.
I want life for him and enjoyment and happiness.
I have given him all I can.
Another must provide those things for him now.
Soon as the summer dusk falls
He must go to the realm of Pan.
My precious Mosby died on Monday July 14th. He had oral squamous cell carcinoma. The evening of the last Saturday in April he was laying on my chest and I noticed he had a couple of drops of drool on the side of his mouth. I wiped them away and a few minutes later more was back. By Sunday night his jaw was swollen and on Monday he was at the vet’s. Wednesday he was back for an X-ray. Two weeks of antibiotics did nothing and the following week he went to the specialist. Two biopsies and a CT scan later the diagnosis was confirmed. It was in his jaw and very advanced. I elected not to have a mandibulectomy done. He was so brave, he endured the injections and biopsies and anesthesia without hostility or lashing out. He determinedly crunched his dry kibble almost to the end. The last week and a half he began eating less and less of his wet food and finally on Saturday morning I called his vet. She offered me a choice of coming Monday or Tuesday and I took Monday. I was glad. He never ate again. Sunday he could not longer jump on the kitchen table and Monday morning he almost fell getting up from where he was laying on the floor.
He spent his day in the living room with my others cats. I played Tibetan singing bowl music and Buddhist chants on my laptop. We were all very quiet together. I held him and petted him and did the chant to Green Tara for him. He was not afraid. He was not afraid of the of his vet or her tech who came to the house for him. He was not afraid in the twilight sleep and he went into death surrounded by love and unafraid. He was wrapped in a blanket. The vet and her tech left and I placed the mandala for purification of the body on him and chanted the chants for death and the chants for animals so he would make a good passing. I whispered Om Mani Padme Hum into his ear and blew across his body. I am not practised at these things as the monks but I did my best. I sat with him in the fading life of late afternoon with the sun coming through the window over the shoulders of the golden Buddha statue on it’s wicker shelf. Then I wrapped him up and got him ready to be taken to the crematorium.
There is a quiet emptiness now, in my heart and in the house. The other cats have been very attentive and I have begun to restart all those things I put on hold but like the sword thrust of the Nazgul into Frodo, it is a wound that will never truly heal.