Vale Egg

Egg was put to sleep on Monday afternoon after a short struggle with effusive FIP. We found out on Thursday after the vet performed an ultrasound and located a large amount of fluid around her lungs and liver. She was 11 months old and her 1st birthday would've been on the 2nd of November.

We will remember her forever as our puppy cat. The first skill she mastered was fetching a paper ball, although most of the time she would get distracted while carrying it back. She was obsessed with our socks, and would steal them and drag them away to her 'nest' in the bathroom (which eventually came to include t-shirts once she got big enough to carry them). Sometimes she was a little jerk - she would attack my hair and feet if she wanted me to wake up - but most of the time she was lovely. My favourite thing about her was her chattiness: if I meowed at her, she would most definitely meow back, and we would have entire conversations which would usually end with her sitting on me purring. I have so many fond memories of her that these examples don't even begin to describe how good she was.

Everyone who met her loved her and I am thankful for that.


The past week has been extremely difficult. I feel angry, dissociated, incredibly depressed and, at times, completely devoid of emotion. Josh is the same, so at least I'm not alone in this, but the emotional toll is huge. Monday gave some sense of closure but I still wish I had somebody to blame. I think my feeling of injustice is amplified because of our recent health issues - it isn't fair.

Being faced with mortality is a strange feeling. In light of death, everything seems stupid and trivial. I hope this feeling goes away soon.


We retrieved her from the vet last night and the vet nurse I spoke with was the first staff member we saw when Egg got her vaccinations as a baby kitten. He cried and then I cried.

Egg was buried in the garden in Melton at sunset. The sky was filled with bushfire smoke which turned the sun a bright orange. We planted jasmine on her grave. Afterwards my parents picked some lavender and rosemary for us and my dad showed us his bees and we ate wild strawberries. It was nice to be surrounded by life (even if it was just insects and plants, and Charles lurking in the background/rolling in dirt) in such a sad time.

There is more I could say but I'm not sure what. I just miss her a lot. Poor Egg.