As many of you know, our beloved tabby cat Sake Bomb departed this life yesterday. I will be honest and say the loss hit Chris and I pretty hard, partially because it was so sudden, though I’m very grateful for all the happy years he spent with us.
Chris brought Sake to the Jesmary house five years ago when he was the definition of “itty bitty.” Selected from a litter of free kittens, the residents of the Jesmary house eagerly adopted him, and fed him more than his fare share. Sake grew and grew and grew, despite infamous “exercising” chase routines around the house. He never learned to jump and was altogether not a very activity driven creature, but he loved being scratched and lounging in the sunshine. The vets always praised his handsome full features, and I will miss the way he would head-butt me to request attention. Though his demeanor could usually be described as quite grumpy, we all knew it was merely a clever front.
His death was entirely unexpected. I currently cling to the idea that he went peacefully, since he was not sick and had shown no signs the previous day of discomfort. Though I hate not knowing what happened, I am grateful I didn’t have to make the decision to put him down, as I don’t think I would have handled that well. Inara, our other cat, so far seems to be her usual adorable self and was a great comfort. Folks have been asking if we’ll get another cat, and I think that decision will rest almost entirely on Inara’s perceivable loneliness.
Making a short
video in loving memory of Sake was incredibly helpful to Chris and I, as well as talking about some of our favorite memories as we attempted to fall asleep. I found the process somewhat fascinating, and took note of the way my ache and sorrow slowly transformed into a warm, pleasant set of memories, neatly packaged for my referential comfort. I have not had to face much loss in my life like many others have. For some reason I always believed I would handle it coldly, stoically – which I suppose I could have tried, but there is something about allowing myself to mourn, to hurt, that is a necessary part of the process.
You were a good kitty, Sake – loved by all. Your legend will not fade.
