Mango, our friend for nineteen years.
Our nineteen year old cat Mango has, we believe, gone over the Rainbow Bridge. Mango went deaf this past year, had a cataract, lots of aches and pains especially in his back legs due to an attack by a pit bull some years ago, yowls in the night, etc. Typical senior cat behaviors. Poor lovey. The past few months, it was clear he was on his way out of this realm. Today he was asleep on the bed, suddenly woke up and just YOWLED/cried. It was heartbreaking. As he sat in my lap (for the last time, it turned out) I told him it was okay, it’s time for him to go. I told him how much we loved him.
The past few months, he didn’t really want to go out, even though it was summer. As soon as the weather changed from summer to that magical velvet Fall a week or so ago, he wanted to go outside. He would sit on the porch for a few minutes then come back in. Today he wanted to go out so we let him out, thinking he would come back soon. We were sitting on the porch. Mango went over to Jim, which was hard for Mango, poor stumbling guy. He just looked at Jim, the sweetest look. Jim petted him and then Mango left.
We haven’t seen him since. That was around five in the afternoon. It is now past midnight and he hasn’t come back. We have looked everywhere; no Mango. UPDATE: It is now two days later; he is gone. It is clear he went off to die on his own terms.
I knew Mango was dying and we were discussing taking him to the vet to be “put down” (great fucking goddess I hate that term) but Mango decided to go the way he did. Which I prefer except I would have liked closure, to be sure, and I hate the idea of him being alone out there. But I trust he knew what he wanted.
We tune into Netflix for distraction. Comedy special, and while funny, the theme was death. Death. Death of his sister, death death death. Earlier mind numbing TV and it was all about death. Was i just picking up on what was random stuff or something more pointed? My attention is hyper.
Tuned in to Coast to Coast late that night. The subject involved communicating with the spirits of dead children. (!) Death.
I set up my Octoween altar September 30th. A sort of Dia de los Muertos, All Souls Day, Dumb Dinner, pagan/witchy memorial to my ancestors and those I miss and loved.
It’s also been a hell of a year for both of us. Jim had a heart attack last September, died for a full minute in the ER (which I witnessed) several blood transfusions, a severely bad hernia, ... oh it was bad. Came home from the hospital only to return two weeks later due to complications.
Thankfully he is better than ever now.
Then, it was my turn. Diagnosed with cancer in February, operation, six months of chemo, ... now waiting for the ostomy reversal. The cancer is gone. Close calls for both of us.
This time of year is when the veils are lifted. The spirits come through; we reach out to speak to them. We create altars, perform rituals, pray, make offerings. Even those who don’t believe in such things participate, unconscious of the meanings behind, while they enjoy Halloween and the spooky movies and costumes.
I’ve been hoping to communicate with Mango. Nothing yet. I read something author and psychic Taylor Ellwood wrote recently about mediumship. We can’t demand that the spirits respond to us, instead we should offer our thoughts and allow them to communicate as they see fit. (I’m paraphrasing.) So instead of telling Mango to come to me and communicate (and this is also for my ancestors) I’ve been sending him the message that when he’s ready, and if he wants to, to just let me know how he’s doing.
