About 18 months ago, this pretty gray cat started coming around our house. It was winter and she seemed hungry. I would pet her and she was very friendly and sweet. After a couple weeks, she was still hanging around and super skinny, so we fed her. And she became our cat. Joci named her Seraphina. She was a total sweetie. She had been declawed. She had definitely been someone's pet once upon a time and I hoped I wasn't kidnapping her.
She loved coming inside but our other cat didn't like that idea so much. And Seraphina wasn't so great about the whole litter box thing. So she lived in the garage.
Last week, I noticed she had lost an extreme amount of weight. She wasn't eating. She would disappear for long periods of time. I knew what was going to happen.
We tried to make her final days happy and comfortable. My kids got the chance to say goodbye. We treated her with roast beef and tuna fish (though she wouldn't eat).
Seraphina died yesterday lying in the cool grass under the lilac tree in our front yard. Joci and I put together a box lined with batting and a towel and decorated by Joci with markers. She did pretty well until we closed the box and buried the cat. It broke my heart to see my child cry so. I know she was drawing upon her memories of her grandma's death - and I was too. It was pretty traumatic and sad.
We survived it, though, and as we laid the flowers on her grave, I felt like we had passed a family milestone. Our first pet death and having a pet buried in the backyard. It doesn't get more real than that. We love and miss you Seraphina. We know Grandma Normandie is up there taking care of you now.