Burying the past

Early in December Jessica (the older of our two cats) died. She was between 17 and 18 - Jen adopted her as a stray in the first year that we were married, when Jessica was probably about 1 year old. The photo shows Jen with the two cats about twelve years ago, when we were living in Canberra. Sophie (on the right in the photo) was adopted during our stay in Canberra, so she's 12-13 years old.

Jen had a love for animals, especially those who were neglected - after we adopted Sophie I joked that we'd need to put up a 'No Vacancy' sign. We've kept chooks (and for a while ducks) for ten years, and we have a dog as well. So at Jen's death I inherited the responsibility for the animals. One of the few promises I made to Jen was that I'd continue to look after all the animals, and I've so far managed to do that. After the blur of the initial couple of months, I've established routines for the occasional pet needs, such as monthly flea treatment. Jessica's last illness was probably either advanced kidney failure or cancer, and in animals these are not treatable. All we could do was give her extra care in her final week, and the morning after I started seriously thinking about euthanasia options, she was dead. So I buried her in a corner of the backyard, with the dignity that Jen wanted for her animals.

There's something poignant about being outlived by your animals, although it's very common. Jessica no doubt registered the change in her routine when Jen died, and the sudden drop off in human attention during the day. For me Jessica also linked together the whole of our married life, back to our first home in East Brunswick. Then Jess was an energetic hunter, and Jen carried quite a few scratches from playing games with her - but earned no sympathy from me. So burying Jessica was the loss of one more thread of connection with Jen. Even as I work at organising the photographs and bits of paper that record our life together, I'm conscious that it is people who still connect me most to Jen -- mainly of course Jen's family and the boys, those who loved Jen the most, but also a wide network of friends. I'm not sure of the extent of a cat's memory, and there was no explicit communication with Jessica, so I appreciate those who both remember Jen and can still talk about her. Don't be afraid to mention her name when you talk to me - in fact I long to hear it spoken, even as I continue to use her name myself.