My soon to be ex husband's cat died. My husband's first cat gave birth to him, and he adored my husband, worshipped the ground he walked on. I loved that kitty, and was frightened when he left him here because the cat was with him constantly, from birth onwards. I begged him to take him, but he refused. The kitty was old ,took meds and was frail. I have been very busy and frantic, trying to make certain that everything is "perfect" in case the police or someone else is summoned again, I have moved out almost all of the furniture, and when he is not with me in my bed the often incontinent kitty was in a room without carpets except those I put down for him, that could be washed. There is a bed in there with pillows and covered so whatever happens can be cleaned up nicely. This was in large part so there would be no problem for my pets. as work was being done, they would not get out, or if the police came in, etc. due to lies from my husband there would be no problem. My husband once put a mother and new kittens that I was caring for out in the cold and subject to harm when he moved out before, so this was no idle concern.
I have been strectched for money and time. Friday I had a law school finals and I have been sick, working on the house, dealing with the divorce and creditors , investigators and lawyers looking for my husband. When my husband sent the police to get guns that his psychiatrist had ordered removed from his custody and they threatened me with jail or shooting, and when he sent a lawyer who jumped my fence and threatened me, I panicked and was not lsleeping at the house every day. I am sure that this stressed the poor cat even more. I hate myself right now so much. Then there was a period when I did not have a bed and slept on the floor, so the kitty remained in the other room as well during that time.
I went to choir practice Sunday because my pastor specifically asked me to sing a certain song for Christmas- I hadn't planned to sing this year, and really didn't want to go. I did all the things that my years of vocal training taught, except for a shot in the throat- still I croaked softly. I felt even more sick when I returned. When I came home the kitty was acting squirrely- I left him in the other room and didn't bring him to bed with me, as iI thought that I simply couldn't handle the incontinence etc that night. He loved Baby Sammy, and I should have just dealt with it, despite how I felt.Yesterday, I went in to feed him and bring him into my room to cuddle in bed, supervised so he wouldn't ruin the linens- he always rushes out, vocalizing. It was quiet, and I found him dead with the other kitty nearby, and the water bowl turned over.
This would never have happened before, NEVER. He had a kitty friend with him, but I would have taken him to the vet, etc, if I knew that he was in distress, at any hour of the day or night, and have done this- (last time it cost $1,000) and he was great at telling me if he wanted more food or water. I took him to be cremated today. I hate myself and what I have become- I should never have let my husband intimidate me and make me change my lifestyle out of fear, and stress out an innocent cat. I should not sing or do anything that I don't want to, and get so sick that I don't function well. Everything seems to be rushing at me at once, and I am overwhelmed and feeling unworthy of even trying to be happy, and destined to lose.
I am guilty and dying inside.