It has been 12 days since I had to make the decision to put my cosmo down while he still had his dignity. It has been a tough 12 days. I even ended up in the ER 9 days after, because I couldn't handle the emotional stress and still function with all of the tasks I still have to do, like taking care of my other pets and errands etc.. I worked myself into such a frenzy trying to catch up on everything that I had put aside, that on wednesday night, I became physically ill and on Thursday morning it wasn't any better. I knew it was probably stress and anxiety, but my doctor insisted the symptoms sounded like a heart attack and sent me to the ER. I still haven't received my test results, but they gave me something to help me relax, and it does help. I'm still so sad, but not sick with hysteria. I worked on Cosmo's grave yesterday, planted a letter I wrote to him sharing some of our stories of happiness and heartbreak, and I planted some wildflowers and baby's breath too. He has a marker, but it is not finished yet, but his resting place is. I have been recalling some of my memories: Like the time he came up missing in a snowstorm because he accidentally fell from our second story porch( he was an indoor cat his whole life), I was so sick looking for him, walking the area with our dogs to leave our "scents", calling neighbors, newspapers, vets, and the Humane society. I even started looking in people's windows thinking somone had stolen him (I would have broken their door down to get him if I had to). I left our hall door open so he could get in to his food and blanket, and of course I prayed. I had gone to pick up some of his pictures that I had developed so I could make posters, and while I was at the store, I bought myself a candle to keep lit until he returned. That was on day 2, I did light that candle and kept it burning from 4pm that day until the next morning when it was almost burned down. At 5am, I had to blow it out for safety reasons, 20 minutes later, he was scratching at the door. GREAT DAY! I looked him over, he was O.K. except for being hungry, thirsty, and tired. I still don't know where he spent those 2 and1/2 days but God had returned him to me, that was in 1997. I'm so thankful I got him back then so I was able to have him for 8 more years until he had to pass to the bridge. If only God would return him to me now.
His nickname list is sooo long, and that is where this topic desription comes from. We called him Mosul, Mozambique, Mobitussin, Cotton Socks( cuz of his 4 white feet), Copper Eyes(they truly were copper, like new pennies), Mo's toes.. the list could go on and on, but the one that stands out is "Cosmotosis", which was a nickname that sounded like a disorder, a disorder of loving him so much that it hurt, and from this day forward I will be suffering from "Chronic Cosmotosis", and there is no cure. Thanks to all who take the time to read this long post, I have more stories, but the tears in my eyes are making it hard to see the keyboard, and when I can, I'll post them in the memorial section along with more of his beautiful pics. Peace and healing to all. Love and prayers, Mo's mommy.
It has been less than 2 weeks without you, and the pain is as fresh as day one, I pray that my pain does not keep you from peace, my sweet baby boy.
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