Sunny was such an endearing and trusting soul who made loving easy. And loving has never been something that came easy for me. It always felt scary, and I was always looking for the danger signs that would show me (usually too late) that the person I’d chosen to love not only didn’t love me back but also wanted to hurt me. This was one of the first things I ever learned, beginning with my parents, and has unfortunately been – with very few exceptions – the rule. So yeah, I have trust issues.
Sunny had no such issues. He was born almost straight into my hands sometime between 10.00-11.00 on the morning of August 5, 1993. Well, I gave Lua about an hour to get the newborns cleaned up and fed, then I moved them to a clean duvet and commenced cuddling kittens. So I know that from Sunny’s first hour he felt he was safe and loved. Since I couldn’t tell the kittens apart at first I put Sunny’s birthtime at 10.30 – halfway through the whole birthing process – and curiously, that was also the time that he died. At 10.30 last Wednesday he took his last breath. So I was there with him at his birth and also at his death – and during the sixteen years, three months and twelve days in between I did everything I could to make sure he always felt safe and well-loved. And a magical thing happened. I discovered for the first time in my life that I was actually capable of giving that sort of flat-out, no holds barred unconditional love that I’d only ever heard tell of. And it felt good, like I was being the person I had always wanted to be. Someone with a fearless heart.
And I owe all that to Sunny. He brought out the best in me just by being himself. Because of him I discovered all the love that had been trapped deep inside me and, because of his absolute trust in me, he made it feel safe to love him back. And that love was eventually extended to my other two cats … and the occasional human. Because of Sunny I had finally learned how to love.
I made Sunny a promise as he lay dying in my arms – that I wouldn’t let all that love die. That I would never “let him go” and that I would keep trying to pass on some of the love & trust he so willingly gave to me. Because as long as I can still be the person who loves Sunny, I know that this is someone I can feel proud of being.
Luckily Sunny’s little protégé is still here to help me…
casa azahar 
Never be anything less than proud of being you – and be assured, you are loved.
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Az, I still have no words – but I find a bit of peace in knowing that Sunny’s life was a full circle in your arms from first breath to last. Feel proud of being part of that, proud of just being.
Sunny’s little protege?
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Yes, Sunny’s little protégé is shown above at six months old (Sunny was two in that photo) and he is also my avatar. My little street cat Azar, who Sunny befriended after I took him in. I love that photo because it really shows the big/little brother relationship they had going back then, and how Sunny was so protective of Azar. They really were inseparable.
I’m lucky because I love Azar every bit as much as I love Sunny, even though they were always so different. Sunny was just so sweetly good-natured and endearing; Azar is much more complex and demanding yet somehow totally irresistable. Also, Azar makes me laugh every day – I’ve never known a cat with such a crazy sense of humour before.
But it still hurts when I wake up and cuddle Azar (he sleeps on my head) and then don’t see Sunny curled up at my feet.
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Az, this post is so full of wisdom and self-knowledge. It is so beautiful. You have managed to put into words one of the most blessed things about having an animal with which you can experience that unconditional love you describe so profoundly. I’m sure you will keep your promise to Sunny, and the world will be a better place because of what you learned with him.
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Hugs to you from Scotland. I love my little old dog in the same kind of way. She has been a wonderful presence in my life these last fifteen years, from a feisty puppy biting through my watch strap on the way home from the farm to the blind old lady with doggy dementia that she is now. I am honoured to have known her and to have been trusted by her, and her love means more to me than almost any other I have in my life.
You must miss Sunny dreadfully but you gave him a great life and he loved you – what more can we ask?
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Thanks, Teuchter. I shall try.
Keeping my promise is at the very top of my list, hmh.
I really can’t ask for anything more, Puddock. I just wish that last day hadn’t happened the way it did. I wish he hadn’t suffered for even one nano-second.
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How is Azar taking all this?
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Kittehs teach us how to do pretty much everything. My late&ex once said “The wonderful thing about cats is that if you accidentally step on their tails, even if it hurt, they know right away you didn’t mean it.” He was onto something – they see right through to who you are.
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Oh, az. This was so moving. I’m feeling a choked up.
I can still barely write about the dog we had. Like with you and Sunny, I was there at the moment of Red’s birth, and there at his last breath. It’s been four years now since then, and I still miss him terribly.
Sunny sounds like such a wonderful soul. I wish I’d had a chance to get to know him. (Ours was such a brief meeting!) But your writing about him makes me feel like I do get to know him.
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Azar doesn’t seem to have noticed Sunny has gone, Mudhooks, though I think that for him, his Sunny hadn’t been around for quite awhile. He stayed away from my pillow the night Sunny was dying (he otherwise always sleeps on my head) and showed no interest in Sunny or, later on the next day, the body that lay bundled up on the bed. But the next night he was back on my pillow and it was “business as usual”. Though he is getting LOTS of extra attention now, which he is totally loving. He’s even learned a couple of new “make az laugh” tricks, including a death-defying back-of-the-sofa walk, and he has taken to sitting on the end table next to my comfy chair, which is extra comforting for me.
Sunny got his tail stepped on plenty of times as he was always underfoot, Sled, especially in the kitchen at feeding time. Until his food was put in his dish he would follow me (or Nog) everywhere, lest we forgot. Like, as if. He was also so endearingly forgiving after going through some icky medical procedure, like getting his ears cleaned or having the paraffin squirted into his mouth, in part because he knew he always got a treat afterwards. Unlike Azar, who always scoots away under the bed to sulk after an ear cleaning, Sunny would immediately go over to his food dish and turn on his “beseeching” look. My darling boy.
Yeah, it’s too bad your two trips up to casa az were so brief, alejna. You didn’t get the chance to adore Sunny properly. Ah well…
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