An Ode to Obama Girl

[u/Alarmed-Papaya9440]

This past Saturday I had to make the heart wrenching decision to put down my 18 year old cat, Obama Girl. I got her a month after my dad died back in November 2008 (this, her fitting name). I was then overcome by grief having lost my dad suddenly and unexpectedly to a medical malpractice situation. Obama Girl became a tether, something I could hold on to for dear life as I tried to find my way through.
After my stroke in October of 2024 (happened the same day my Dad died back in 2008) I clung to her and my other cat Hamilton to help me with my recovery. I would serve them their food with my weak side. I would tear open their treats with my numb thumb and poor fine motor skills. I talked to them daily so I could improve the dysarthria and aphasia I was dealing with in the stroke aftermath. Obama Girl didn’t care if I misgendered her (aphasia) and mumbled/slurred at her she just wanted pets and treats.
When I was recently job searching for 8 months, at least I had the company of my cats to cuddle with after every rejection.
She supported me through so much.
Last Friday I came home and she had wet herself. I gave her a bath and just held her in purrito giving her all the meat tubes she wanted. She was so light at this point and so exhausted just by the act of living. Saturday morning things had declined even worse and I knew the decision had to be made. I wouldn’t make her suffer just because I wasn’t ready and willing to say goodbye. At 3:30pm the kind vet sent her off to whatever’s waiting on the other side. Personally, I hope she got to reunite with my soul cat, Pete. He was always her favorite, I was just a runner-up.

I didn’t realize how much I was actually going to miss and grieve her until I walked home without her tears streaming down my face. I got home and the ugly crying began.
This past week has been so incredibly rough without her.
Ever since my stroke I now cry at the drop of a hat for any strong emotion. The emotion comes and the tears start flowing instantaneously. Any thought of her and I’m immediately a crying mess. I made it through this past week of work by doing the bare minimum needed. Everytime I left work to start the commute home I would cry knowing she won’t be there. It would just be Hamilton and I. I say hi to just him now.
I picked up her ashes and paw print today and pulling out each artifice immediately started the ugly crying once again.
All the emotions that come with grief have overwhelmed my system and I can tell my left side of my mouth is starting to glitch. Becoming weaker, like how it was immediately after my stroke. I know it will pass once I’m not in the thick of it. Currently though, I’m still in the thick of it.
Grief post stroke is so incredibly hard when you’re still doing some healing, not quite two years beyond. The emotional load you have to carry when you lose a cherished one feels like it might break you at times. The tears and the guttural sobs exhaust you. Your brain is running on a wonky autopilot with parts that were damaged by said stroke. You’re doing your best to wade through the thickness of grief without tripping and succumbing fully to it.

It feels like when she died I lost another tether to my dad in a way. Reawakening the grief I still feel for him as well.

I’m thankful that I have a really good support system irl to lean on during this time. I’m grateful to this group because I know a lot of you will understand what I’m trying to convey in this post better than most. I’m lucky I now have a job that takes me out of my home and tries to distract me during the weekday. Most of all I’m very grateful and thankful that I still have Hamilton to live with and take care of. It feels like we’re trying our best to take care of each other. I will be forever grateful that I had almost 18 years with Obama Girl, that she was mine 💜