The cutest cat ever has been hanging around Uza Beach for the last month or so.  We sort of adopted her.  She is super friendly and loves to sit on my lap.  

Last week, we think she had a miscarriage (even though a lot of us couldn't even tell she was pregnant.)  Several days later, she was still having some kind of contractions, with difficulty breathing.  She couldn't lay down because of discomfort.  She wouldn't eat or let us handle her.  It was a heart-wrenching scene.  On this small island, there was nothing we could really do.

Sadly, the cat has died.  At least her suffering is over, though.

We found the carcass this morning, just up from the beach.  It looked like she literally collapsed in death while still in the sitting-on-hind-legs position.  Poor thing.  

I dug a grave at the side of the yard where she used to roam among the tall grass.  We placed her at the bottom of the grave, and covered her with a layer of sand.  I remembered how she loved the sand, especially pooping in our new walkway!  It seemed only fitting to bury her with some of that sand.  We then covered her with a layer of dirt, and placed a few rocks on top to mark the gravesite.

Digging the grave was quite emotional for me. I was overwhelmed by pity that this cat suffered so much, and by helplessness that we couldn’t do anything to save it despite our best efforts. 

But on a grander scale, I started thinking about mortality in general.

The cat’s death, as brutal as it was, perhaps had some bit of purpose to it.  To remind us that, like it or not, life ends, sometimes unexpectedly and unforgivingly. 

You don’t get a second chance.  It doesn’t matter what you have or don’t have, what you do or don’t do, or, in the cat’s case, how cute you are.

So live your life, on your terms.  Be happy.  Now.  (And of course, the financial planner in me would add, "Have a financial plan or budget.")  

I like to travel.  I like to sail.  So that's what I'm doing.  

Rest in peace, “Cat.”  I’m sorry we couldn’t help you, or even give you a name.

The cat's gravesite, in the center of the picture, marked by a pile of rocks.  She's nestled in the tall grass that she used to play in, and just a few meters away from the sand walkway that she loved to poop in.  RIP.

The cat's gravesite, in the center of the picture, marked by a pile of rocks.  She's nestled in the tall grass that she used to play in, and just a few meters away from the sand walkway that she loved to poop in.  RIP.

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