OK, now that I've stopped crying (sort of, for the moment), I'll tell a story...
I got my first pet, a cat, when I was 6 years old. Shortly thereafter, my best friend also got a cat. For reasons too long to go into, his cat became my second cat. I'll call them M1 and M2. M1 was the BEST CAT EVER. He was handsome and regal and patient and loving and kind. When he was 12, he got sick--we could all see that he wasn't well, but we hoped he'd get better. Then one day he took a turn for the worst...my mother woke me up--she was crying--and she told me she was taking him to the vet and didn't expect him to come back. Our vet was opposed to euthanization unless absolutely necessary. He tried to save M1, pumping him full of anti-biotics, but to no avail. In spite of his best efforts, M1 died later that day.
6 years later, M2 stopped eating, and "retired" to the basement, and spent all of his time sleeping. This went on for about a month. He had once weighed over 20 lbs., but slowly wasted away. My mother was away, taking care of her parents, ultimately moving them into a nursing home. (They were both 95.) When she came back, we told her how bad M2 had become. Suddenly I noticed that M2 had come upstairs, and was dragging himself across the floor. I said, "Mom, just look at him" and she said, "Oh my god, I had no idea he's gotten that bad. We're taking him to the vet tomorrow and having him put to sleep." I picked him up and sat down on the couch, holding him on my lap. When the time came to go to bed, I took him to my room and put him down on my easy chair, which had been one of his favorite spots. Then I went to bed and tried to sleep. Sleep did not come easily. I kept getting up to check on him. His breath was coming in gasps and his pupils were wide. I got the impression that he was looking at something far away, that he wasn't really "here" anymore. He seemed to be in pain and I seriously considered smothering him, but I couldn't bring myself to do that. I was eventually able to sleep a bit. At one point I woke up and saw M1 sitting in the chair next to M2. I said, "M1, what are you doing here? You died." He looked at me solemnly and serenely and I understood. "You've come for M2, haven't you?" My memory is a bit fuzzy after that...the next thing I knew, it was morning and my father came in...he told me M2 was gone. I was so tired I thought I didn't care anymore, I was just glad it was over. I got up and walked downstairs to get breakfast. As I reached the bottom of the stairs I felt my face falling apart...by the time I reached the kitchen I was crying uncontrollably. My mother held me and tried to comfort me...
To this day I regret that we didn't relieve M2 of his suffering much sooner.
M1 and M2 still visit me...not often, but once in a while. I have these recurring dreams that M2 is alive again. In these dreams, he's been back for many years. Even though we knew he died and couldn't explain his return, we got used to it and stopped questioning it, and he's been with us ever since. Sometimes I'll wake up in the middle of the night and one of them will be sleeping on my chest, purring. I'll pet them and enjoy their presence...the feeling of their fur under my hand and their weight on my chest and the vibrations of their purring. In the morning, of course, they'll be gone, but at least I still get to spend some time with them, if only for a moment.
