This is Cornelius. He is fourteen. Today he left home.
For the past two or three years, Cornelius has had a seizure disorder. He has big, grand mal seizures. Sometimes he has as many as 4 or even 5 in a day. Sometimes he goes for weeks or months without a seizure. But when he has them, the seizures leave him exhausted, hungry, a frequently hurt. When he’s having a seizure, he thrashes around unless someone holds him down. This doesn’t stop him from seizing or growling or hissing or from peeing involuntarily, but at least it keeps him from being hurt.
We don’t know why he has seizures. When he was a younger cat, he was hunting in the barn. Sometime fell over on him and probably pinned him. He was stuck for 4 days. We couldn’t find him. But then he returned home. He was skinny and freaked out. We nursed him back to health. Later we discovered that he had lost all feeling in his tail. This led to him occasionally burning his fur on candles or fires. And, we suppose, this was the initial spinal trauma that eventually led to his seizures.
About 5 days ago, after a few week stretch of not having any, his seizures began again. They were fierce. They seemed to go on for a long time. We gave him his medicine. This usually works after a few days. Yesterday, after a series of particularly hard seizures the day before, Cornelius was feeling somewhat better. The seizures had stopped. This morning he even seemed his normal self.
For the past year or so, Cornelius has not gone far from the house. He stays nearby with Maya the Dog and Romey the Cat. They range far into the fields, he doesn’t. He usually stays inside or in the yard or on the deck. Mostly, he sleeps on vacant beds.
This morning we were surprised to see Cornelius walking in the field headed away from the house. He hadn’t been there in years. Then we lost sight of him as he walked up the hill, walking farther away from the house.
Throughout the day today, we’ve gone out with the dog to search for him. We call his name. We make the “kitty kitty” noises. We’ve walked all the fields to call for him. We’ve driven the car up the road to search. We’ve emailed the neighbors. We cannot find him. Now it’s dark.
There is always a chance that he will turn up, return from wherever he is. He hasn’t eaten since this morning. And he hasn’t had any medicine today. But tonight I think he won’t come back.
I think he’s left to find a place to die, to leave his body behind. I think he’s finished his earthly journey.
He’s been a great friend and companion. We already miss him. May he be well, wherever he might be. May there be many blessings on his journey home.
——–
also posted at dailyKos and The Dream Antilles
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Thanks for reading.
… peace to Cornelius on his path and peace to you, david.
This thing with outliving animals is tough on the humans. My oldest is 23 this year and we’ve had her since she was one. She’s outlived several of her companion horses, which has been tough, and her best daughter, which was heartbreaking, but I have a grand daughter mare which acts like her even if they don’t look alike, and a gelding which got all her good attributes, her face, but his dad’s body and calmer reactions. 2 weeks ago we had the 2nd oldest get sick and he ended up at the vet’s on iv fluids until he cleared whatever it was, I was thinking no, no, too soon. But he’s fine now. He likes that vet, who has saved his life before, it’s really cute.
Love ’em while you have them because you can never tell. We adopted an older dog last year that has worked out amazingly. People say, oh how could this dog have been at the pound, but they didn’t see him before when he was underweight, had bald spots and the shelter shaved his matts off, and I am positive his situation of his former humans just somehow didn’t work out well, and he must have gone looking for them after being moved. Nobody picks their life transitions.
I hope you can find him. I know how I’d feel if Magic disappeared. I thought she had one night and I was surprised at the depth of grief I went into for hours, but luckily it turned out she had accidentally got locked into a room we rarely open.
Keep looking, eh?
I would so like to believe you are wrong that Cornelius is truly gone, but cats are kinda’ like that — when they’re ready, they will look for a place or wonder off somewhere to be never found again.
With my cats (former cats, not the ones I now have), however, as time went on, they were somewhat restricted from the outdoors, at my will, so their various journeys came to an end before my eyes, so to speak! Illness, etc. and a “final call.”
Whatever the case, losing a beloved animal is almost impossible to bear! This is innocence, loyalty and love, at it’s best! And, we have bound them to a dependence on us!
You’re probably right, as much as I would love that you could or should think otherwise.
and an easy journey for Cornelius.
If you go out again tomorrow you might want to look for a hidden place, like under a porch or under a bush.
if he did make the choice you think, i give you credit for letting him do it with dignity. i hope for the best for him and for you. he is a beautiful cat.
overnight, David?
Just curious.
Hope he comes home, hope you find him.
I didn’t even like cats, but early in a relationship with someone who would become my significant other for more than a decade, I contracted a miserable case of food poisoning and while visiting her, laid down on the bed to take a nap, seeking any kind of escape. When I awakened, her dog was snuggled up to me on one side and her two cats, a Siamese and gray tabby were nestled up against me on the other.
Needless to say, these two guys (along with their barky brother) became exceptions, as well as several others I’ve met since then. Its been almost seven years since the gray tabby made his exit and his Siamese brother about three years later.
I still miss them very much, however, the sharp pain of their loss has lessened. The numerous photos of them are now some of my most valued possessions, and the recounting of their antics continues to serve as a frequent source of laughter.
Please accept my sincere condolences, davidseth.
…could be twins:
David, I can’t even express to you how much I appreciate this poignant essay, which I cried my way through. Our 14-year-old Cookie has chronic renal failure, and since he is an indoor cat we’ll soon be faced with making a difficult decision. Reading Corny’s story gave me much more peace than I’ve had for weeks. I hope I can be as graceful about letting Cookie leave us as you have been about Corny.
May dear Cornelius be blessed on his journey. You have given him a good life.
I can sympathize too because I suffer from grand mal seizures myself. I take medication too, but it’s nasty stuff and I’m not sure if the seizures are worse than the medication. Both options would be awful for a cat to put up with.
And the worst part — whenever I have a seizure I bite my tongue badly. Then I can’t eat or talk for a couple of days. But I’m overweight and a smart-ass, so I guess an injured tongue is a bit of a silver lining.
SO sorry to read this. Wishing you and Corny the best: you might be right about his decision, but I’m hoping he returns with a mouse-eating grin on his face.
home to die – to make it easier on their companions – or maybe a more primeval force – to die in nature’s arms.
I’ve heard it’s the same with us – people often wait until their loved ones have left to die – to make it easier on their loved ones.
He looks like a beautiful cat. I have five of them and have had 12, 13 before them and other than that they loved me – they remain a mystery to me. And if that is what they chose – it’s good.
You said it: blessings on his journey home.
Still, one of my cats, Jessie, left home after a stroke and I thought as you do. Miracle of miracles, she came home one twilight autumn a month later. She still graces me with her presence 5 years later.
But whatever is Cornelius’ story – it is a good one.
Blessings all around. He is where he belongs.
find his way home whether it’s with you or on his own journey. Cats are such wonderful creatures with it sometimes seems to me a knowledge of both their worth and the nature of their being. He is a lucky cat to have shared his life with someone as open, understanding and compassionate as you. I know it’s hard when our life spans part us from the animals we share our love and life with. I wish you both peace but you will never be without Cornelious as he graced your life with his presence. Blessings to you both.