We stroked his head and ran our hands along his body. He purred. We looked at him directly in the eyes and we sang songs. He purred. We told him of mice and birds and long summer days that would not end. He purred. We held him close, so very close, as the needle pierced his skin. The purring stopped.
The last few days have been filled with tears and with fond remembrances of our dear cat, Bear Claw. He lived for almost twenty years. I have children that have never known a time before Bear Claw. Simply put, he was part of our family.
I spent the last year of his life as a care giver of sorts. As his health failed, I cleaned up after him. I helped him up to his favourite perches around the house. I carried him out into the warm sun on my shoulders and made sure his "apartment" was warm and comfortable. He and I spoke about how and when his life would end. We had an agreement that when the good days were outnumbered by the bad days, we'd part ways mercifully and quickly.
In the British Museum there's a collection of Egyptian statues of Bastet. My partner has had a long-term relationship with this goddess for more than twenty years. We have a large replica statue of the goddess Bast outside of our front door. In fact, she's been the guardian outside of our last few residences. Cats seem to find our house appealing and more than a few have found respite in our bushes and on the roof of our shed.
In typical Pagan fashion, our family began to turn our thoughts to how to ritually honour Bear Claw's passing. We created a simple enough ritual. We cleaned the statue of Bastet with warm water. We brushed away the leaves and spider webs. We set a small glass of wine behind the statue - Apparently, festivals to Bast were rollicking affairs with processions, boats and much drinking! - and set out a bowl of cat food as an offering. We lit three white candles. The first candle bore the name "Cleo", the first of our cats to leave us. The second candle had the name "Molly" inscribed on it. Molly was the stereotypical witches familiar. The third candle said "Bear Claw" We asked Bastet to guide Bear Claw home, to a place where cats are gods (as if they don't think that they already are gods!). We lit the candles to Cleo and Molly first and asked them to welcome their brother to his next life. And we cried a little more. In the coming days we'll no doubt sprinkle some of his ashes around the statue and add him to our altar for The Beloved Dead.
Type something like "how to remember our pets?" or "honouring our departed cat" into your favourite search engine and you'll find hundreds of web pages dedicated to our four-legged family members. There are some terribly sad poems about cats and dogs - I know, I spent an hour going down the proverbial Google rabbit hole and going through a whole box of tissues in the process.
Historically speaking, venerating animals is well documented. Mummified remains of cats have been found throughout Egypt. Horses, especially war horses, have been honoured in numerous ancient and modern cultures. Police and companion dogs are given full-blown funerals today.
How have you honoured your beloved companions?