I came back from the last convention I was at to find out that my cats are dead. Both of them. Loki and Baldur, my beloved kitties, are gone.
It was…a bad decision combined with a moment of forgetfulness, that killed them. not my decision, not my forgetfulness. and so they’re lost to me. I won’t talk about what happened here. I wasn’t home when it happened…I was having fun at a convention. And so my kitties sat in a freezer all weekend, dead and alone.
I cradled their dead bodies for a long time when I came home.
And I’m kinda….hanging on by a thread. Trying to fill my head with other things so I quit looking for phantom kitties in my apartment. The urge to wander around calling for kitties is very very very strong in me. I keep hearing them crying in the apartment, and I keep wanting to find them, because they’re just hiding…they need me to come and find them. So yeah. Not terribly rational at the moment.
I took them to be cremated yesturday. They were norse-kitties, so I’m going to find a nice wooden box with Yggdrasil on it, and keep part of their ashes in the box, and scatter the rest of their ashes on the wind.
I’ve cried a lot.
I am going to end up needing counseling, that’s about all I know right now.