Dear Emmy,
We had a hard day yesterday, didn’t we? When the Vet said that they need to do a biopsy with the thought that you have the ‘C word’ I felt my legs actually wobble and thought I was literally going to fall to my knees. But I looked at your beautiful eyes and found the strength to keep standing. I had to. For your sake, I had to. Because you deserve a strong Mummy. A brave Mummy who will fight for you. I’d like to think I proved that when the other Vet dismissed your sore; because, despite having always had my pets registered with them, I trusted my own feeling that something was wrong and took you to another. And when they said you needed medication, I was reassured that I’d made the right decision. That – just from instinct – I’d known your best interests.
I feel like that instance is an example of how we were made for each
other – we’re kind of like those best-friend necklaces where each person has
half a heart that matches perfectly to the other, to form a whole and complete
one. Because from Day One – when you were rescued from that terrible situation
you were in at just a few weeks old – you were meant to be mine. Meant to join my
Lionhead; Pixie, and I as we struggled to adjust to being a family of two after
losing our fluffy Maine Coon; Dolly, less than one week before bringing you
home. So many people told me that I was moving too fast in getting a kitten so
soon, but when I watched how Pixie always seemed to be searching for another
fluffy one to play with, and I felt a hole in my heart, I just knew we needed a
new addition. Then, when I saw your picture on the rescue centre’s Facebook page,
I realised that the ‘new addition’ was destined to be you.
Pixie and I were so lucky to have you in our little family, and
the fact you both bonded immediately really reinforced the fact I’d made the right
decision in bringing you home. I mean, it was still difficult to manage my grief
for Dolly’s death, but you made everything so much brighter and less dangerous.
You made me safe. My mental health had been so poorly in the run-up to losing
Dolly, and I think once she died everyone around me seemed to take a deep
breath and hold it, as though they were all almost waiting for me to self-harm
or attempt suicide. Like it was inevitable or at the very least, predictable.
But having you? Well, having you gave me reason to stay safe and well, and to
get back on track with my recovery because I wanted to see your life. I didn’t
want to miss out on anything – especially in those early days of only just bringing
you home.
Unfortunately, mental health recovery isn’t linear, and so I wasn’t
always safe through your life, and for that, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry you had to
meet Paramedics and Police. I’m sorry you had to see blood and empty packets of
tablets. Mostly, I’m sorry if you ever thought that you weren’t worth me
fighting to stay alive. This wasn’t true. In fact, it was the opposite – there
were times where I honestly felt and believed that you and your Sister (Pixie)
were the only reason I was alive. Kind of ironic how professionals always talked
about the importance of taking responsibility for your actions and then I found
that being responsible for an additional two other beings was genuinely lifesaving.
That responsibility, however, has come with its difficulties now… It’s left me
feeling completely, powerless and had convinced me that I’m an absolute failure
for you. And it’s one of those things where it doesn’t matter what people say
and it doesn’t even matter that you ‘know’ it’s not right… it’s still there –
just sitting in your head, adamant. Almost determined to take over your head
and be in complete control of your safety. But, loving you as much as I do and
being 100% sure that you wouldn’t want me to feel that way or be unsafe, is so
much more powerful.
I think that you hold such power and importance because when we
lost Pixie, it was just you and I for all those months I spent debating whether
to get another bunny. All those months we spent consoling each other. So that when
you started scratching and meowing at the door where the hay and sawdust had
once been, I knew I needed to do something to help you. It was like I could
feel your grief – the pain you held having lost your best friend – and that
empathy had me straight to professionals asking for advice, and when the
Feliway worked… Well, of course I was thankful to the Vet for the suggestion,
but I was actually more grateful to you; because it meant you were so strong
and so brave for not giving up. You know, you hear stories all the time of
animals passing away due to a broken heart – either because their furry friend
has died or their human – and I have the upmost respect and appreciation that
even though it would’ve been completely understandable if you had, you didn’t.
You chose life and you chose me.
Please don’t stop choosing that. Please stay here for me and for
your little Sister; Luna, and for all the people who love you. And please know
that if you can’t, you will be missed forever