The Story Of My Cat’s Death.

I recently lost a cat named Tomi. It’s been two months and it still hurts me to talk about it. Tomi was seven weeks old when we first got him. He was our first pet and we literally had no idea how to take care of a cat, but people learn as they go and so did we. I was never really a cat person and I certainly never wanted to own a cat because most of the times they get hit by a car or get lost. So I thought. Until I saw Tomi. This little tiny ball of fur with giant eyes and big ears, and I fell in love with him and all the other cats of the world.

So Tomi became family and I couldn’t even imagine my life without him. He was my baby, my companion, basically my everything and there was no words to ever describe what I felt for this cat. I will never forget my last day with him, he was acting all weird and not like himself at all, he was sleeping next to me on the sofa all day long and I found it weird because he’d usually want to go out for a wee or just stretch himself. But no. He stayed on the sofa all day, occasionally coming for cuddles and kisses and I felt like the happiest cat mum ever.

I later got up to take a shower and when I was back, Tomi was waiting in front of the patio door for me to let him out. So I did. Every day for the past two months I ask myself why I did it. Well, he obviously needed to go for a wee as he hasn’t been all day and that’s fair enough. Then I went upstairs and sorted my hair out and blah blah blah all the usual evening routine before bed and I returned to my laptop, and read some boring articles about how to attract love into your life.

Then I heard fireworks dangerously near the house and I thought I’d better open the patio door and let Tomi back in, he was probably scared to death. I called out for him and I expected him to sprint back in, but he didn’t. I found it quite strange, but I didn’t really take much notice of it, although maybe somewhere deep inside, I knew something was wrong. In a few minutes, I stepped out of the house through the front door and saw a few kids trick or treating with their parents and I obviously caught one of their mum’s attention, tiptoeing around in my top and knickers only. I said I was looking for my cat and she said she hasn’t seen any cats around, so I went back into the house.

A few minutes later someone knocked on the door and I felt so bad because all the sweets have gone to the kids that arrived earlier, so I opened the door expecting to see a bunch of dressed up children, but instead of them, that lady was standing in front of the door, awkwardly smiling and asking me if I was still looking for my cat, because there was one down the drive… That’s when my heart started skipping beats. She said the cat looked run over and I doubted it was Tomi so I kept asking her what did the cat look like and I was still not convinced until she said it was quite a big tomcat.

I had to go and see, it was the only way to make sure. The lady took me by the arm and we went down the drive, just a few meters away from the house and I saw a silhouette of a cat in the dark, lying on the floor and as terrible as this may sound I hoped it was the neighbour’s cat, but as closer I walked, the more sure I was this was my Tomi. I felt hot and sick and drowsy and as I got to the cat I kneeled down and literally screamed out his name. Tomi was lying by the pavement with his eyes wide opened and there was blood coming out of his mouth.

I can’t really remember what happened next. I know the lady tried calling RSPCA or something, then she brought me a blanket so I could pick Tomi up and we took him back into the house. I yelled for my brother to come down and I can still remember how his face dropped when he saw that lady holding Tomi wrapped up in a blanket. I asked her to stay with us in the house while we were figuring out what to do, because for some reason I thought (or, well, hoped) the cat was still alive. But he wasn’t. I rang my mum and poorly explained to her what happened and I still think she didn’t get a word of what I said until she got home.

I felt like my heart was being torn our of my chest, I just wanted to vomit everywhere and my eyes just kept tearing up. We lay Tomi down on the floor while he was still wrapped into a blanket and I kept staring into his unmoving tail until all I could feel was absolutely nothing.

The three of us, my mum and brother and myself sat there by the cat’s corpse and we knew we had to get him out of the house tonight. Although he was our kitty cat, this was now a dead body and it had to be buried. We didn’t even know where to bury him or what in or what with. So we went to Tesco’s later that evening and got some gardening tools, drove down to the beach to get some stones and then buried Tomi in the woods not far away from our house. And all I could feel was nothing. I was empty, drained. I feel like I had lost a piece of myself, a child or a brother.

All I could see in my head was that moment I saw him on the ground amd I was killing myself with the thought that I might’ve been able to save him, I just didn’t know how. I fell asleep feeling awful and I could feel Tomi’s fear as he heard and saw those fireworks and the terror he was in, trying to run home and somehow I felt responsible for his death because I let him out and because I didn’t go look for him straight away, even though I did! But maybe, maybe if I was just two minutes earlier…

The pain of the next morning was unbearable. Empty house, empty food bowls, silence. As soon as my mum came down the stairs I burst into tears and so did she. That was the moment we decided we couldn’t live like this. Although Tomi was gone and it didn’t seem real, we needed another cat. It wasn’t the case of wanting another one, it was a case of needing it.

A few hours later, two little female kitties stepped through the door and the house felt like a home again. We got Belle and Bailey.

But there was a long journey ahead of us and I had absolutely no idea how to start coping with the fact that Tomi was never ever coming back…

/to be continued…/

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