Daisy

She sleeps in his spots. Gathering the objects that were his close by her. For a week after he passed, she slept for most of the day, refusing to be comforted or cuddled. Even now, she sleeps more than she previously did, though she smiles when in the areas that smell of him. Her grief is visible but very unique to anything I've ever witnessed.

I don't talk often about Daisy on her own. Jaxson was a larger-than-life individual who easily drew attention. But that doesn't mean that Daisy is in any way a shrinking violet, which was evident when you saw the two of them together. There's was one of the longest relationships I know of, with a bond that still runs very deep. 

The foundation of that bond came from their introduction. Jaxson came into our lives shortly after Grey and I were engaged and he was our only cat for about 6 months following the loss of my first cat. As I watched him in the evenings, bored out of his mind, I knew a companion was needed, but Jaxson also didn't do well with other animals. Intent on controlling his territory, I knew it would take someone who wouldn't put up with his BS.

We found Daisy the day after we returned from our honeymoon. The trip to the shelter was spent playing with kittens and meeting many cats, but it was Daisy (named Apricot at the time) who caught Grey's attention. The next day of formalizing her adoption, which should have been the simple part, was an adventure. We arrived at the shelter to him a guy bellowing at the animal control officer about how he wanted his dog Boomer back. The officer was clearly pissed (frankly, I'm amazed she didn't stick him in a cage), and when she got to us, turned her frustration onto me. After navigating the madness in the front, which was freaking everyone in the shelter out, and packing up this tiny cat, we found ourselves on driving home. It was then that Grey commented on Daisy's size and said "we may have to bring her back if Jaxson hurts her."

Those words would haunt us for the next week, given how stupid we were with introducing Daisy to Jaxson. Instead of giving her her own space to acclimate, we immediately let her explore the entire apartment, with Jaxson hot on her heels, growling the whole way. We were woken at 2 am to witness our stupidity with us witnessing Daisy beating the snot out of Jaxson. She had turned into a hellcat and could literally toss him across the room, which shocked all three of us. This continued for a few days, despite separating her from him, with the final straw being finding him cowering in the corner of the kitchen with a scratch across his nose while she was actively hunting for him.

The vet immediately diagnosed her with PTSD and prescribed Valium. For three days, Daisy laid on the couch in a semi-conscious state. And that's when things changed as Jaxson took that time to lay beside her, grooming her and making nice. When we stopped the meds, she returned the affection. From that day forward, they were inseparable, with her kicking his butt if he ever crossed the line or was too much of a jerk.

Over the past week, I've spent a lot of time thinking about that beginning as I've watched Daisy mourn losing Jaxson. They were together for 17 years, which is longer than most human relationships. But if you think about it more, realizing that both cats turned 18 years old this year, which translates to 88 years old when comparing to humans, and remember that they were around 20 years old in human years when they first met, then one realizes their relationship is much, much older. I'm effectively watching a feisty elderly woman mourn the loss of her life partner. 

There's really no grand lesson with watching Daisy process her loss. Love is love, as simple as can be. But maybe that's what is grand and profound. Two animals spent a life together, loving and caring for one another, building a life while the humans carted them around the country and threw so much craziness their way. Instead of tolerating it, they added to it, making it clear that they were part of our family. 

Now there's a hole. And as I try to navigate my grief, I look to Daisy who is unapologetic in hers. A tiny brown cat who is still just as feisty, but honoring the loss of a life that was while continuing her journey.