During the candlelight ceremony for petloss grief tonight, someone made a comment that our pets are here to carry us through a certain stage of our lives, and once they know we have turned the corner safely, they go home to God to rest until we meet again. This comment touched me deeply, but I didn't know why. It rang of a truth that pulled at my heart and actually made me cry - so I thought about it for awhile and then it all made sense. This is my story, but more importantly - this is Nikita's story.
When I got my beloved cat Nikita back in 1995, I was going through some bad times. I was in a bad marriage, had just lost my mother, and going through yet another depression and bout of anorexia, and once again thinking of ending my own life. I had been thinking this way since I was 8, and the only thing that changed was thinking of different ways to do it.
Nikita came into my life unexpectedly at a time I had no intentions of pet ownership. A woman was in the grocery store parking lot with a truck and a sign that said Free Kittens. I had seen similar things over the years but always walked by without stopping. However, on this day something made me go over to the truck, but still I had no intentions of getting a kitten. My husband was with me, and he had no intentions of getting a kitten either. As we got to the truck we saw the cute little balls of fur. One of them came out of the cage and my husband picked her up and fell in love with her. She reminded him of a beloved pet he had lost years ago. He wanted to take her home. Immediately behind her was another one - I picked her up. It wasn't her cuteness or softness that I fell in love with. It was the way she snuggled in close as if she belonged in my arms. I didn't want to put her back down, and she showed no signs of wanting to be put back. I realized that I wanted to take her home and give her a good life. We didn't know what to do, because neither of us had ever had two cats before, and it was going to be a tough decision deciding which one to put back. Then I looked at my husband and said lets get both of them. So now we had two kittens and our grocery list had suddenly gotten bigger in a time when money was tight. We took a few things off our list, got the supplies they needed, made the vets appointment for needles, and my life changed forever. The kittens loved each other, and we loved them. I believe they brought some sunshine into my dark marriage and gave us something we could laugh and talk about together, but this was short lived. When the marriage was officially over four years later, the hardest part about leaving was seperating the two cats. Nikita would never have been happy without me, and the other kitty would have been miserable without my husband. We did what we had to do, and I left with Nikita and my husband kept her sister. I loved the other cat dearly, but our constant fighting was upsetting both cats, so it was better to leave her than to stay.
Out of a bad relationship, starting a new life full of possibilities and I still thought of ending it all. I had been under a doctor's care for a few years, and to this day I still am for Bipolar Disease. There were times I thought the only good thing in my life was my beloved Nikita, and when I was going through my darkest hours she was right beside me giving me unconditional love. Year after year, there was never anyone or anything I felt I could fully trust or count on - but I knew I had Nikita and she loved me. I don't think I ever loved a human as much as I loved Nikita - and not sure if I ever will. Anyway, life continued on and so did my deep rooted belief that I would be better off dead. I had good times too, don't get me wrong. There were times of intense happiness, joy, etc., but I always crashed and ended up back to to thoughts of dying. In June of 2008, my brother got killed in a motorcyle accident and I went into one of the deepest depressions I have ever known. My Dad died when I was 17, my Mom passed when I was 35, and now I was 48 and my only sibling was gone too. I felt totally lost and alone in the world, as I had a small family and all my other relatives had passed away too. I kind of went on autopilot and got through the rest of the year, and then in March of 2009 I finally gave in. I had a stash of strong sleeping pills I get prescribed every month but rarely take. I really hadn't thought about taking an overdose but one night in the middle of March after a night of drinking, I found myself at the kitchen sink with a glass of water downing two and a half bottles of those pills without even thinking of the consequences or caring. I figured I would go to sleep and never wake up, but the thought didn't bother me at all. I had made peace with not seeing another tomorrow and was not afraid of dying. After taking the pills I made my way to the couch and I don't know how long it took but I began to feel very sleepy. I knew it wouldn't be long now, but I didn't panic and call for help as I have heard people do when they know they are going to die.
I think I was just about to doze off when I felt it. Something had bumped my lap and caused me to look to see what it was. There was my sweet baby girl Nikita, looking up at me I think with a questioning look in her eyes. She came up to my face and snuggled close and started to purr. I patted her and told her I loved her, as I always did and she snuggled in closer.
It was then that I panicked. Not for myself, but for my Nikita. I lived alone, and rarely had company, I didn't work outside my home so nobody would be expecting me to show up anytime soon. All I could think at the time was how much food is in her dish and does she have enough water - but I didn't have the strength to get up to check. The phone was on the table beside me though, and I managed to pick it up and call my best friend. All I said was "Take care of Nikki for me", and then I hung up. I knew I could go to sleep now and that Nikita would be taken good care of. However, my friend knew the minute I said this that something was desperately wrong, because I would never "give" my cat away, but was too far away to get to me immediately so he called 911.
I really don't remember anything after that - except waking up with something shoved down my throat and my hands tied down. I was waking up after being on life support for three days in the hospital. This is one of the scariest feelings I have ever known. I could hear strange voices around me, I was tied down and choking on something that I couldn't pull out of my throat. I thought I was being tortured and being held hostage somewhere like in a nightmare, still not remembering anything that had happened or aware that I was in a hospital.
What I found out later is that after my friend called 911 and the ambulance came to my apartment, I was rushed to the hospital. By the time I got there it was almost too late. The pills I had taken earlier had dissolved quickly by the aclohol I had drank so they couldn't pump my stomach. My blood pressure was almost non-existant and my body was shutting down. I was later told that when they put me on life support, they didn't hold much hope that I would pull through. It was a 95% chance I would die, and a 5% chance I might make it. Well I made it obviously.
I was in the hospital for almost two weeks, and when I got out I was actually mad at my friend for calling 911 when all I asked him to do was take care of Nikita. I did forgive him in time, and although the rest of 2009 had its periods of good it also had the all too familiar depressions, and Christmas was especially tough. I didn't even bother celebrating it for the first time ever in my life. However something had changed but I didn't realize what it was until tonight when I read the comment that man had made about our pets being here to get us through a certain phase of our life and then they leave us when they know we are safe.
What had changed after I was released from the hospital was that even though I was still having some pretty intense depressions, I was no longer "obsessed" with the fantasy of dying. I was enjoying life as much as I could, and coping with the rough patches and hoping they didn't last too long. I won't lie and say I never thought about killing myself again - but when I did, it was fleeting and I was pretty sure I didn't really want to die. I was thinking I wanted my life to improve versus wanting it to end. I started getting out more, even if only to take a short walk and get some fresh air. I made a couple new friends, and re-connected with a couple I had shut out after my brother died. I tried to find something good in every day and be grateful for the things I had rather than wanting the things I didn't have.
Then last year, on May 21, 2010 my beloved Nikita left me and went to Heaven. She had given me 15 years of unconditional love and companionship. She also saved my life. If it hadn't been for her jumping up on my lap the night I took the pills, there is no doubt I would have died. Her purring and snuggling as I was fading out made me aware of her presence and her need of food and water. For the sake of her well being I was able to keep it together long enough to make the phone call. The phone call that saved my life.
She gave me another year of her love and companionship before she passed on. I do believe she stayed until she knew I was safe...and then she went for a much deserved rest up in Heaven where she is waiting for me when my time comes.
I can't wait to see her again, but I will not dishonor what she gave me. She gave me another chance at life - and I will live it the best I can until God decides my time has come.
Dear Nikita:
Thank you for the 15 years of love and friendship my baby girl.
You gave me the gift of a second chance, so I will cherish it as you would want me to do. I know you are watching over me, perhaps a little worried still. You did all you could do, and for that I love you even more. Rest peacefully little one - I will be Okay, and I promise I won't let you down.
Mommy