Goodbye, Coruba

One of the regular stars of Furry Friday, our collections of readers' pet photos, has been a beautiful tabby named Coruba. This week Helena emailed me with Coruba's story. Here it is...

Thank you for posting Coruba's photo the other Furry Friday, the one of him licking his lips after eating catnip. That photo was one of my favourite because it shows his spirit - I'll explain...

The catnip had been trying to grow but an insistent and naughty cat wouldn't leave the catnip alone, so we move it on top of the shed. Our thinking was that Coruba wouldn't be motivated enough to bother - as usual we was wrong and that photo was taken upon coming home and finding him on top of the shed eating the supposedly hidden catnip. Nothing, absolutely nothing ever got in the way of Coruba and his food or when he wanted cuddles, the two things he adored.

Unfortunately it is with broken and grieving hearts that we let you and your readers (who knew Coruba through your photos) know that on March 3 at noon, our beautiful, loving boy Coruba lay on our bed for the last time as the vet slowly injected him with a sedative.
We tried so hard to be calm and only send him positive feelings of love and gratitude, gratitude for his gentleness, his love and for sharing his life with us, we wanted his last memories of this life to be of us speaking lovingly to him and stroking his soft fur. When the second injection was given, we watched as his amazing spirit left his tired and sick body. At that moment I knew how it was to lose someone you loved.

I have loved Coruba from the first moment I saw his beautiful tabby body slowly and most gracefully walk past our driveway. You see, though from that moment he has always been part of my heart and family, he actually belonged to our landlords (who are also friends). By the time they left for Canada they knew he was in good hands as Coruba showed them he loved us, and our landlord saw how much we loved Coruba. Releasing our boy from pain was without a doubt the most difficult decision we ever had to make and one of the most painful experiences we had to go through. 

We feel quite lost without our little boy. You see, he wasn't a cat, not just a cat. He was far more than what you could see with your eyes; to truly see him, you had to use your hearteyes, you have to see his soul. He was one of our best friends, my comforter, my sleeping-in partner, my favourite pastime, and all of a sudden I don't see his lovely face in the window when we park in our driveway.

I don't have his little paw tapping me on my face to let him back into bed in the morning so we can have another five minutes of cuddling before Dad says it's time to get up; we don't have our lap ninja waiting anxiously for the first available lap, we don't have him looking into our eyes and giving us his "I love you" look with his half-closed, lovey dovey eyes; we miss him jumping on the kitchen counter to see if there is anything more interesting than his food, his surprised look when caught doing something he knew he shouldn't, the crazy run he used to do after going to the loo (it always looked like he was afraid that he was being followed by whatever he had done in the litter tray), his silent meows, his head sleeping on my left arm every night since we have had him, his ability to know when I need a cuddle even if I don't think I do - he always knew best. I miss his paw tapping me on my shoulder when he wanted to sit on my lap and I was either on the computer or sewing many, many things to miss about our boy.

These few weeks that have passed have been very hard. Every corner of our home (a house that he made feel like home) has his invisible pawprint on it, making it both comforting and heartbreaking to be in the spaces he occupied. His favourite blanket, the pillow he sat on every day while watching the world go by through the window, finding his fur on our clothes, thinking we caught a glimpse of him crossing the lounge, or hearing his "I am here" meow. We are finding it difficult to adjust to this huge gap he has left in our hearts, life and home.

The grieving has changed a bit for me now. Just after he passed, I blamed myself for not noticing signs, not giving him more attention or all the food he wanted when he asked for it (which was all the time). I felt guilty and ashamed for taking the easy way out - maybe we should/could have done more. 

But now I am able to see that we DID do everything that we knew of at the time; our decision was based on love and respect. I remember now that there was always a lap and cuddles for him, he always had three or four types of food to choose from, he was carried to bed almost every night, every window had a pillow for him to lie on. Even when we moved or went on holidays, his wellbeing both physically and emotionally were the first thing to be taken into consideration because he was and will always be loved, Coruba, my feline soulmate.

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