It’s been about three weeks since I last wrote. I don’t really know how to start again. I’ve had not only not-so-good days but also the hardest days of my life – I said goodbye to my great love, Floki.
It was the strongest blow of my entire life. I saw my soul tremble, inflamed. Floki was the being that taught me the most in life. With him, I learned about consent, patience, and the purest and most genuine love, the kind that asks for nothing in return and gives itself completely. I could write a book about the size of my love for him. Because of him, I am vegan today. Because of him, I learned to enjoy the most important things in life: a couch, a coffee, a sunset, having health and vitality, listening to birds, looking at the one we love, and feeling truly complete and grateful.
Floki passed away on the morning of April 1, 2003. His young heart could no longer bear its size, which had grown due to hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, a hereditary condition somewhat common in some breeds of cats.
Floki was the most loved cat in the world. He was and always will be. Even at the time of his passing, I learned from him.
He had not been eating well for the past few weeks. For months, he was no longer interested in playing, even though he had enjoyed hunting and catching his prey all his life, which we tossed up with a toy stick. He was no longer living well. In the last week, he weighed only 3.5 kg, which for a large cat was half his weight. I suffered with him. Even on his last day, he had the strength to wake us up at his usual time, 5 am, made biscuits, purr, and touch my face with all his affection. I cried because I knew it would be the last time, and he literally wiped away my tears (actually, he licked them away).
Soon after, he approached the window, and as if inviting us, we watched the sunrise together, me, him, and João. Perhaps the most beautiful moment of our entire life. We cried, but with so much love in our hearts, that his longing was just one of the many emotions we felt.
The two weeks of life promised by the doctor would be through medication, another medication among the four that he was already taking. It was not fair to him. His tired eyes and weak body could no longer bear the strain of dodging so many medications. It was better to cure him forever than to prolong his pain for days.
My love for him is proportional to the pain of not having him around. It hurts so much, and my resolute mind tries to find ways to solve grief, avoid pain, and find a solution, but when it comes to Floki, he even had something to teach me about that.
I learned to recognize that resolute voice inside of me and notice that it doesn’t solve all the challenges and situations that I face in my life. Many times, it’s about feeling, not thinking.
The loss of Floki made me realize that there is no solution to everything. Accepting, conforming, and living through the period of pain with all its intensity may be the only way to go. This path, unlike the one I’m used to taking, is not the most creative, optimistic, or energizing, but it is the most natural, powerful, healthy, and vulnerable expression of love that I have in my heart.
With love,
Karina.