Where to start? It's had to describe anything that's been a part of one's life for nearly half of it... even harder when that "thing" was a living being whom you loved.
Castor was born as one of seven kittens to a mother owned by a couple other college kids in the town my university is located. He and Pollux were the only two Siamese looking kittens in the entire litter. We wanted named that wold reflect their twin-like appearance and ran through several, rejecting the most obvious ones like "Cain and Abel," "Romulus and Remus," and "Heckle and Jeckle." I came up with the idea of Castor and Pollux.
From Wikipedia:
"In the myth the twins shared the same mother but had different fathers which meant that Pollux was immortal and Castor was mortal. When Castor died, Pollux asked Zeus to let him share his own immortality with his twin to keep them together and they were transformed into the Gemini constellation. The pair were regarded as the patrons of sailors, to whom they appeared as St. Elmo's fire."
It took a while to figure out which was which, but their personalities helped make the distinction. Spookily enough the mythological Pollux also outlived his brother. That thought has been haunting me for about a year now...
Castor wasn't the runt of the litter but he was the smaller of the two. I started referring to him as "my littlest love." It stuck even when he became the bigger of them. Even after baby Confetti came into our lives. He loved playing fetch with paper wads, eating canned pasta (I didn't start him on that), and being outside on walks. And people. Being a university student I had friends coming and going almost every day. Castor loved everyone and just knew they were there to see him.
Saturday morning everything was as normal as it had been for weeks. Then right as the vet's office closed, Castor took a turn for the worse. FH and I debated and decided we would wait and see if he was really in pain or if he might be able to wait until Monday morning. He seemed fine through Saturday evening but Sunday morning was a different story.
He was so tired and couldn't walk on his own any longer. Thankfully our vet works for the emergency clinic, so they were willing to work with us and our special needs. FH and I decided (with our vet) months ago that we wanted a necropsy preformed so we'd be better prepared if Pollux starts showing these signs. Usually the emergency clinic doesn't hold bodies for testing, but after a couple of phone calls the arrangements were made.
Everyone got to say good-bye here at home. Castor loved on Artie like always. Pollux has been increasingly upset for the last few days and didn't want to have much to do with his brother. They did touch noses one last time though.
It was bittersweet letting him go. Stopping the pain outweighed our own sadness though. Castor was relaxed the whole time, from the car ride to the end. In fact I'll swear to my dying day that he looked relieved.
Pollux and Artie are both sad and confused. I'm hoping Artie can keep Pollux from slipping into a depressed funk. Tempie hasn't noticed Castor's absence yet but she will eventually. As for me, I'm stuck between relief that he's not hurting and being totally shattered that my baby's gone. We've been preparing for this day since before moving to this house last year. In fact we weren't sure he'd see his 12th birthday, but he fought hard to stay with us.
I believe he's earned the rest. I know he's basking in the sun at the Rainbow Bridge with Confetti, 'Bert, and their Uncle Meat Loaf. I'll see them all again eventually.
Good-bye, Castor, my littlest love. I will love you forever. See you at the Rainbow Bridge.
