I’m having the hardest time writing this post. It’s been in my head for weeks, maybe months. While no one is forcing me to write this, it’s important to me that I write and publish this. It’s important to me that you know.
In memory of my Minnie
At 12:05 pm
on Monday,
the 13th of November,
Minnie passed away in my arms.
I carried her to the balcony window
so that she could see
her trees and
her birds
one
last time.
The balcony window was her favorite spot in the apartment.
It was a spot that she remembered the most
when we moved back into the same apartment
after living in Tokyo.
(Well, it was one of her favorite spots—
because her real favorite spot
was anywhere
in the apartment
that I was.)
On Monday,
the 13th of November,
I held my Minnie
in my arms
until I couldn’t hold her
anymore.
💔💔💔😿😿❤️🩹
Born: ?-2008, Washington state, USA 🇺🇲
Adopted: June 2011, Washington state
Lived: Seattle, USA; Tokyo, Japan; Lausanne, Switzerland
Miles flown: 36,0001
Brands of cat food snubbed: 44
Pillows fluffed: 2,700
Humans consoled: too many to count
Real mice caught: 0
Hearts stolen: infinite
Died: 13 November 2023, Lausanne, Switzerland 🇨🇭
[Some Headline to Break up the Heavy Shit]
I’ve rewritten this newsletter multiple times. Each time I wrote a new draft, it did not feel right. Like, maybe, what I wrote was something private that is part of the processing?
Is it too raw? Is it too vulnerable? Too coated in tears?
I dunno. Vulnerable, maybe. Yeah, vulnerable…let’s go with that.
Though, I wonder if the reason why I’m having a hard time figuring out what to say about the death of my cat is that her death is part of my book that’s happening right now, in real-time. Not a part that’s already happened, that I’ve reconciled, and I feel confident writing about, like the day I got divorced.
I’m not sure if that makes sense to you, so let me rephrase—
Minnie was a big part of my life for 12 years. She came into my life when I was with my ex-husband2. And he abandoned her like he abandoned me.
She followed me to Switzerland. Then to Tokyo. And then we moved back to Lausanne together, where my apartment was our home.
When she got cancer in October, Boyfriend told me to look up pet cemeteries and funeral services for cats.
No. Minnie does not belong in a pet cemetery. She belongs with me.
I was her home. This apartment was her universe. It was the place she remembered after we moved back from Tokyo.3 She was my girl. My sense of home. My anchor. She connected me to the life I have now and to the life that I had before.
<deep exhale>
Minnie’s a huge part of my story. In French, “pet” is “animal de compagnie.” Companion. She was my companion.
After her death, I felt grief as a weighted blanket wrapped around me. Similar to the one that must have helped keep me going and taking care of her in the last 5 weeks of her life. Meanwhile, my heart was slowly breaking.
I imagine that blanket was woven out of fibers of anticipatory grief that started when she got really really sick in July 2022 and we found out she was diagnosed with Chronic Kidney Disease.4 Or maybe that anticipatory grief started earlier? Before I had a reason to worry?
I don’t think can write more about what I’m feeling right now. Or package it into a nice, neat little thing with a bow and 10 things I learned through the death of my cat…I need to feel my feelings first.
And it’ll probably end up in my book.5
But I’m doing OK right now. I’m still sad, but the blanket is getting less heavy. Minnie’s ashes are home. She is home. She is on a shelf right behind me.
And every day when I start work, I say, Hi Minnie, because she’s sitting there, on my desktop, waiting for me to get started.6 <3
New Project: A Tribute to My Cat
I have no idea how much of a hole Minnie’s death is going to leave in my life or how much I’m going to miss her. But what I’m really afraid of is that I will forget her, especially her personality and her sass.
One of her last wishes is that she will show up as a vivid, fierce character in the books that I write.
Well, to do that, I need practice.
Enter Minnie’s Instagram account!
She was too lazy to update it while she was alive, so I will take over it now that she’s gone. This will be where I’ll play with Minnie’s voice and, honestly, have a place to pour my grief into.
If you’d like to witness me keeping my memories of Minnie alive, you can follow us here, on Instagram, at Swisskerlams.
Her Instagram will be a creative writing project. If you have any thoughts or ideas about it, send ‘em my way; as long as they don’t include asking me to make Minnie talk in a baby voice; she’s more Daria than Powerpuff Girls anyway.
Other things I’ve been thinking about:
Casual connections—I’m making my way through
’s memoir, The Lonely Hunter: How Our Search for Love is Broken. The book is about her year-long quest to answer some of the most unanswerable questions about being single, dating, and loneliness at this time.In between personal anecdotes, she weaves in research and other sources who have data and something to say on these topics. It’s brilliant!
In one part, she talks about how our small, everyday casual connections give us a sense of community, like the postman, the cashier at the corner shop, etc. Small, casual conversations with people we see every day keep us connected and anchored to the place we call home. Even if it’s just a nod or a simple hello.
The problem is what happens when these connections disappear? We can feel adrift.
I’ve been thinking about this concept around Minnie’s death. Every week, I’d take a long walk to the vet to get her medicine or supplies. I did this walk almost every week for the past year and a half since Minnie first got sick. There, my ability to communicate with the staff increased as my knowledge and confidence in speaking French increased. By the end of it, I looked forward to going to the vet and seeing the girls. But now I have no reason to take that walk and go into that office. What’ll happen to my French?
How will I write about Minnie now that she’s gone?
I already told you a bit about how this is on my mind. But then I read this essay, A Friend Died, Her Novel Unfinished. Could I Realize Her Vision? by Leslie Jamison (The New Yorker), and woah—it blew it open a bit. That essay also gave a detailed account of what it’s like to take apart a manuscript and put it together in a different version each time. It’s what I feel like I’m doing between each draft of my book too. Great to see someone write about that process.
Until next time…
Big hugs,
Laura
Minnie flew a total of 5 international flights and probably hated every single one of them. :) The girl just didn’t like flying as much as I do.
Minnie was actually my ex’s cat. He pushed to adopt her. And when it came time to split the cats in our divorce, he said that he didn’t want Minnie because she had a big personality ಠ_ಠ (I’m sharing an excerpt of that story with paid subscribers next week…)
I still remember watching Minnie go through the apartment in Lausanne after being. out of the apartment for 1.5 years and 26 hours of travel from Tokyo…if you don’t believe cats have long-term memory, let me tell you about my cat, Minnie.
If you have a cat with Chronic Kidney Disease and need someone to talk to, I’m here — I learned a lot.
This means I have more to writtteeee! hahahahahahaa (Sidenote: I’m working on a different post for paid subscribers on how the scope of my book has changed a bit.)
She’s probably happier in the center of my work than tucked in a box on a shelf next to my desk.
I'm so sorry for your loss! I love cats so much, and it is such a hard thing to go through. Sorry I didn't see this mention sooner as well, I've been sick and then celebrating the holidays. Thank you so much for reading my memoir and for the thoughtful analysis ❤️ I really appreciate it so much. i hope the new year brings you so much healing and joy.
I’m so sorry, Laura. ❤️