Remembering Enzo on a Rainy Day

I have written this several times in my head and on my laptop. Today I felt I just had to get this out. This post is for anyone that has lost a special furry friend, but more specifically, those that have been consumed by the crushing sadness that came with that loss. Many won’t understand you and how deeply you felt that loss, how the waves of memories come crashing in and consume your entire existence for a moment … or an hour … or a day.

My last writing was on December 11, 2020. Somewhere in a previous writing I think I said that I needed to find reason to write more often, I wish I had. I re-read my last post, I found my own words inspiring, but I obviously didn’t listen to my own self. But why? … I know why. There was a hidden pain behind those words as I looked at the date, December 11, 2020. And that pain makes me wish I would have shared more in this blog so you would understand what I’m about to share. Bear with me.

What is that pain? At the the time of the last writing my beloved Enzo, my little kitty buddy, was not well and shortly after that he was diagnosed with Cancer, large cell lymphoma in the lining of his stomach that was also found in a lymph node. A death sentence. Not curable but could be managed in a comfortable way to give him some more time they told me. Chemo treatments followed in early January through sometime in February, amazingly, cats respond very well to this, better than humans. Remission followed that. Grateful for this good news. His disposition became more normal in that they said “he hates us, that’s a good sign”. Because of this he was stressed over his weekly appointments so we moved to monitoring. Somewhere along the way he took a turn, deep down I knew it but didn’t want to believe it. He stopped eating, treats were not interesting anymore, he stopped purring. But his love and the snuggles never stopped, he never hid, he sought me out for comfort and I welcomed every moment. Yes, me and a kitty named Enzo were deeply connected. He crossed the rainbow bridge on the cool breezy morning of May 18, 2021 peacefully in my lap in the backyard where we both loved to spend time with the birds chirping and the fountain bubbling. The crushing sadness begins.

I deeply grieve this loss and all the feelings that come with that. But with some loss there is a deep need to mourn and actively express these emotions. This seems to start with a constant need to talk about my precious fur buddy, reflecting on his life and his path to the rainbow bridge with all the good the bad and the ugly. Many get frustrated by this constant need, so I express it in my social media where my followers can read or scroll past, some that understand will comment. My hope is that through this expression I find a place of contentment, that all the emotion gets exhausted and all that is left is the raw love that I felt and still feel. Expressing the above felt good to put it into readable words, even though I’ve done so a few times in other mediums.

Now let me tell you about a special memory with my little buddy that triggered the need to finish this. I live in Arizona, in the middle of the beautiful Sonoran Desert. We love rain, rain is life for the desert and there is no better rain than the monsoon. The show is found in thunder and lightening but the life is in the rain, sometimes it comes in buckets with torrential winds, sometimes it is a beautiful on and off drizzle with clouds that dance on the mountains … that is today. It is days like this that Enzo and I would sit and watch the rain come and go in the late afternoon after a long work day. I would sip on a glass of wine or cocktail and he would sit in my lap or sometimes wander in the drizzle, not very normal for a kitty but if you met him you would understand. If we were inside I would open the doors and he would sit and watch the desert come alive with rain, sniffing the dew kissed air. I always wondered what messages he found in those smells.

I have lots of stories about my little black panther. Enzo’s life was one big adventure and he lived every moment in the moment. This is a special one because it came with great peace and trust with each other.

For anyone that has had a deep profound sadness in the loss of a fur baby you have my deepest condolences. Know that your need to express your emotions is normal, even if some don’t want to hear it, there is always someone that will understand so don’t stop finding ways to express yourself. Keep a journal, write down your memories, make an album of your photos so you can reflect when needed. Whatever it is, keep doing it or explore until you find it. I’m still working on that.

The video below is from today and a perfect example of the above story, the only thing missing is Enzo. But I hear his soul in every raindrop that falls, turn up the volume to listen.

What special memories do you have about a special fur baby?

Gentle Monsoon Rain in the Desert

3 thoughts on “Remembering Enzo on a Rainy Day

  1. Love you and I loved this beautiful little tribute to Enzo. I only met him on Zoom calls but got to know him best through your eyes. You 2 were lucky to have each other. πŸ’–πŸ’–


  2. He was a wonderful little character and I loved him at first sight. I lost two cats within a few years of each other several years ago. They were the Cornish Rex breed which is a breed so emotional and loving the pain of loss is exactly the way you describe and it lingers forever. My Sam and Max are definitely playing with Enzo somewhere over the rainbow!


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