Our Beloved Krishna
The incessant rain of last week here on Kaua`i was not comforting at all. First of all you need to know that Prince Krishna, our cat was emotionally and physically and mystically driven to the rain. He lost his family in the floods of Haena in April of 2018. We were told he escaped to a tree and watched everything unfold, as his mother and siblings were swept away.
We adopted Krishna from a friend in Haena who was moving out of the country. She had nurtured Krishna after the catastrophic flood. event. She was guided to write us to adopt him after she read on FaceBook that we had just lost our cat Merlin. It was the perfect match and we renamed Krishna – Prince Krishna because of his absolutely royal essence. He is our soulmate, and both Patrick and I feel our many lifetimes together.
From the moment, Krishna came to live with us, anytime it would rain he would leave the house, be gone for various amounts of times, and return to be cradled and dried with a towel. As I said, he seemed obsessed by the rain and I’m sure it is because he was always going out to find his mom and siblings.
Last week during the horrible storms here on Kaua`i, Krishna took his last breath on this earth plane. On Thursday, the 11th of February, we took him to the vet because he had symptoms that had been lingering for a week. We frequented the vet often over the last two years, and we thought this was no different than other times. He’d been through two teeth surgeries and various wounds from fights. However, this time, when the doctor said he is in acute kidney failure due to some type of poison in his system, we knew that something very different was happening. We left him there, turning him over to our dear doctor’s treatment and love. Yes, his vet loved him. He literally bent down over the examining table and held Krishna for a moment before he even addressed me.
Krishna remained in the hospital for 5 days, while we prayed and meditated for his recovery. The doctor even said that most cats come back from this type of trauma. However, Krishna did not come back. He did not improve and the doctor sent him home with us with a recheck scheduled for the following week. Krishna continued to decline and then the rains started on Tuesday night. Krishna who spent the majority of his evenings outside followed the call of the rain. He was gone. We were sure he had gone to die, but continued our prayers, reaching out to others to join us. We begged Krishna to not leave us without knowing what had happened to him. Wednesday night we came home to find a thin and wet Krishna sitting in his usual spot, on top of the picnic table. I ran for the towel and gave him what he loved “towel time.”
He remained with us through the night, sleeping in our bed. The next morning he begged to go out, but we were not ready. I talked to him as I petted him on the couch. He left me and went to another spot in the bathroom. He was anxious. He took some water from the toilet and then laid on his favorite rug. Patrick went into the bathroom and laid with him on the floor and he said he discussed four options. You can die naturally with me here, Krishna, or you can go to your special place in the valley or we will take you to Dr. Bryce and he can help you to pass, or you can totally heal.
When the sun rose, Krishna begged to go out again, and we knew he had made his choice. We watched him as he slowly walked toward the end of our yard and over the crest of the hill into the valley.
People might tell us that animals are not self-conscious and that they are not as intelligent as us and that they do not have feelings. I used to be one of those people along time ago. Although, I didn’t believe that completely, I most definitely put animals in a different category than myself.
Now I know so differently, and I am comforted to know in this new way. Krishna taught me to love. The mourning I feel at this time seems to be all the mourning I have not fully felt – my mom, my dad, my grandma, my aunt and oh so many friends that have passed. Somehow, I did not fully mourn until this moment. Krishna has taught me the depth of mourning. I am grateful for my heart is open wide and I can feel it all.
I am missing him – his incessant meowing, the way he sat on the bar stool and watched me cook, especially when it was tuna, all the towel times we had and all the massages on our couch. I miss the way he just hated my computer and cell phone if it took attention away from him. I miss everything about him. I am sure all of us who have fur babies feel that ours is the best and most special. I join your ranks right now.
How am I dealing with this intense grief that I feel? I am crying. I am meditating. I am praying. I am loving myself and everyone. We have another cat – Miss Kitty. She was Krishna’s auntie and protected and guarded him up to the last moment. She is sleeping in all his spots; and although she loved being in her palace garage, now she spends most of her time outdoors, watching and waiting. We give her more and more love each moment and talk to her about how we all loved Krishna.
Prince Krishna is now my totem. He is my spiritual guide, and the love that guides my path. I am so grateful for the almost three years we had with him. It was short, but the most powerful in the way of loving.
I miss you Prince Krishna, but I am healing and I will allow myself the time it takes. I had a dream the other night and I believe your cat mama came to get you down in the valley. I could feel it, and it made me both sad and joyous at the same time. I felt grateful to know that cat families and human families are one family. I look forward to meeting your family some day on the other side of the rainbow. In the meantime, I am here growing stronger in love every day.
Cat Mama Rita