As you've probably already noticed, I changed the image in my header. What you may not have noticed is I also had to change the wording a bit as well. That's right, we're down one here at the Homestead. I briefly mentioned it last week, but in light of the fact that it was a mere 4 days before the big wedding, I didn't have time for much else.
But my little Isabelle deserves a lot more. While she was only here for a short while, she touched us dearly.
On Tuesday, May 26, Cowboy H and I left for dinner with his family at 7:30. As we organized ourselves in the garage, I saw Isabelle jump up into the rafters. We piled ourselves into the cars, shut the garage door and headed off.
When we returned at 9:15, Cowboy H pulled up to the driveway, then suddenly parked the car and jumped out cursing. In the backseat, I was pretty confused. Slowly, as if time was holding me in place, I realized one of my cats was just laying in the driveway. I flew out of the car to Cowboy H who was leaning over little Isabelle. Unfortunately, she was already gone.
I've never lost an animal before, at least not before its time. My childhood dog Scampi, was 18 when we finally had to put her to sleep. My childhood horse Punkin, is still alive and kicking at 23. The only childhood cat I remember was probably 15 when her time finally came.
This right here, a pet of mine dying (or being seriously injured), is one of my biggest nightmares. You could probably call it a fear. While I don't wake up screaming in the middle of the night, sometimes, I'll just be driving along and suddenly think "What if Olivia got hit by a car? What if Oz got attacked by a dog?" For the next 10 minutes, those thoughts will just consume me. It grips me, the fear of it, and I cannot imagine how I would feel if I came home to something like that.
Well, I've learned. I've learned that I feel wholly responsible. I've learned that the pain creeps up on me. I've learned that shit happens and beautiful creatures get taken away. I've learned that I cannot prevent things. I've learned that I have the most wonderful husband in the world. I've learned that sometimes there are no answers.
Cowboy H took me out to the ranch where our horses live and, at 12:00 am, dug a hole. It overwhelms me how much that man loves me.
I cried and cried and cried. I had maintained so far, but burying her released it all. Cowboy H held me up and let me go.
The next morning, I realized some things: We now only have 3 cats. I might not have to buy so much cat food. Indy is an odd-cat out now, having lost his sister. My eyes were so puffy I could hardly open them. There is a spot on the bed right between my legs that will no longer be occupied each night. That was Isabelle's spot.