Tethered
When my in-law's cat died, I didn't cry but I felt like I had been struck. Yet another tether holding us to my mother-in-law was gone. She had picked the cat out and he had been her constant companion as her own body weakened. He lived 4 years after she died and I wonder what he remembered of her.
Our dog Stella also loved my mother-in-law. Bonnie’s last Christmas with us she laid on the couch having difficulty breathing, and we had to keep Stella from jumping up on her and smothering her in an attempt to show love. Stella's heavy body leaning against us in bed at night or sitting in our laps whenever we sat down during the day anchored us in our grief. Pets are often the embodiment of love, and Stella was for us as well.
I’ve told this story before, but our second anniversary of marriage, we brought her to the place where we got our anniversary pictures. She was awful! She pulled us all over, jumped around, was pure puppy chaos. But that girl was photogenic- and we got a few good ones. We pledged never to bring her to our anniversary photo shoot ever again, but I was sure the next year there would be a baby anyway. You get a dog, and then have a baby, right? But my body could not get pregnant, and so Stella stayed our baby, helping us spend all our money not on diapers but on her medical bills as she got into typical (we now know) boxer trouble. And, though we weren’t dressing up kids, she let me put her in the most ridiculous outfits and take her places to show her off. She was not a distraction for us as we couldn’t conceive- she was a joy.
Stella made us laugh. We adopted an older cat earlier on in her life, and we didn’t have the cat too long, but she was terrified of this cat, whose name was Jelly. She would hide behind me and wouldn’t walk past the cat unless I was nearby. Stella had the most terrific wiggle butt, and now that we have another young dog I am remembering her energy and bounce again. But no matter her energy, she always wanted to snuggle. She loved babies and protected my nephews. She was very put-out about midnight feedings once we had a living child, but she still loved her brother. His first word besides MA! And Dada was Stella.
Today she would have been ten years old, and when she started to get sick this summer, I knew she wouldn’t last until her birthday. But I still hoped. It has been 28 days without her, and our older living child talks all the time about how much he misses her. I am grateful for her life, but as her birthday comes around I realize how much of my grief is not just for her beautiful self but because she tethered us to joy and love and possibility when other griefs threatened to overwhelm us. When we had a living child, I was happy for Stella to have a baby too- not just me and Aaron. I hope he remembers her too. There was a long stretch in our lives when it was me, Aaron, and Stella, and not having her with us gives previous closed chapters of our lives this feeling of finality, or maybe just further distance. We are in new waters now, without that anchor. And these waters can be good, beautiful even, but everything is different. And we miss her.
