8. Death of a Familiar
Prelude to “Death of a Familiar” by M. D. Elwell
My real “familiar”, Draco, a 7+ year old ferret, passed away Friday night, 11/24/06, at approximately 8:30pm. He came out of his favorite “cubby”, an old sweater of mine, climbed up onto his hammock, laid his head down, looked at Don, and sort of sighed out his last breath and slipped quietly away. I was awakened by both Don and Maryangel’s sudden explosion of grief.
I wrapped him in my plaid shawl. And yes, he loved that shawl. I got dressed and I took him out of the house and made my way down to the water to bury him. I performed the burial rites and grieved for him as I made him a cairn. I knew this was coming, as his bad days were outnumbering his good ones, and he was more and more in increasing pain. It hurt me to see him hurt from the arthritis, but any discussions broaching the subject of a final vet visit were hysterically squelched. So, I made him as comfortable as I could.
Earlier that day, I’d cuddled him and he’d kissed me on the lips; a rare gesture for him. Once back in his cage, he’d eaten a little, had a drink, and then went to bed. He emerged later that night to quietly die. I think he was trying to tell Don and Maryangel goodbye. He’d already kissed me goodbye that afternoon.
He was the first “fur-child” after Ebony to broach the walls of my heart again. I am going to miss him terribly. Koko cries for me; because, as in the story, if I stop to dwell on it, it will bring me to my knees and overwhelm me.
It’s like losing my children all over again. So, I express my grief the only way I know how; through my writing.
ME
* * * *
Throat raw from the mourning chant, I stood, holding him cradled in my arms. I’d wrapped him in his favorite blanket; a soft plaid that had once been one of my shawls. He’d loved to cuddle in it, chirupping soft sighs of contentment whenever I’d let him steal it from me.
The grief exploded from my chest and out of my tortured throat as I began the chant once more, leading the procession down the path into the heart of my garden. I could hear the worried echoes of the rest of my familiars in my mind, laced with their own grieving. I ignored them. I ignored the worried glances Larl and Rhi were giving me. I ignored the waves of grief from Devin and Angel. If I didn’t, the weight of it all would overwhelm me.
He’d been my first. Even before I fully understood what “familiar” had meant, he’d bonded himself to me without question, without hesitation. His presence in my mind had been larger than life. For one of such small size, his aura had been large indeed.
His heart had been larger. His strength of will, indescribable. He’d commanded the others with an iron paw encased in a velvet glove until Precious had come along. I didn’t know that he’d chosen her as his successor; didn’t know that he’d known his time was short. He’d hidden it from me so well.
I halted at the Rowan tree. With a wail that was more primal scream, I slashed one hand down and closed my fist. Earth and stone exploded outward, peppering me with fine grains of soil. I heard a sharp exclamation of protest, and a faint familiar voice ordering someone to stand away from me. I dropped to my knees, giving in to the broken sobs that I’d held back for so long. Gently, I pushed the blanket back, gazing on his peaceful face for one final time. I nuzzled his cheek, covered him back up and gently placed him into the deep, jagged hole I’d created at the base of the tree.
With my own hands, I scrapped the earth and stones back over the hole, weeping harshly as I did so. I barely noticed a gnarled pair of hands awkwardly joining mine in the task.
When it was done, I settled back, the harsh sobs still bubbling in my throat. A pair of green eyes entered my blurry vision and gentle, dirt smeared hands cupped my face. Tears tracked freely down her own cheeks. With a heartbroken cry, I slumped into her arms. A second later, I felt Angel join us, and the three of us knelt by the new grave, holding each other and weeping.
“Well, Spit.” I heard a harsh, gravely voice sigh from behind me. “Now they’ll be at that for the rest of the afternoon.”
“Draco was her first.” Devin’s voice was thick with unshed tears.
“I know that, Boy. I was there when the little fuzzball chose her.”
“He had the heart of a lion and the soul of a saint.”
“Ferrets are like that, Boy. They don’t see themselves as small creatures and they have the attitude to back up that self-image.”
“He never let on there was anything wrong.”
“Ferrets are like that too. But, it seems he trained a successor.”
“Precious. She’s as devastated as Kat.”
“And you, Boy. Here.”
“What’s this?”
“I know you can’t stomach tequila, Boy. It’s that sewer swill you call Jagermeister.”
“It’s not sewer swill.”
“Neither is tequila. Come on, Boy. Let’s go have a drink. Plenty of time to sort out the rest of it after a stiff shot or two.”
“But…”
“They need to get it out of their system, Son. Let them cry for a bit. My guards and the Faye won’t let anything harm them. And that big lizard that calls himself a dragon has been hovering for the last 10 minutes. Add in those silly unicorn stallions I see in the trees and Gods help anyone stupid enough to try to interrupt this funeral. Now, come on, Boy. You’re not going to let yourself cry and I’m too old, so let’s go sit over there on that bench and have a drink or two in Draco’s memory and send his spirit off to the Rainbow bridge right, eh?”
I heard Devin make a strangled noise that could have been a choked sob, and my blurry eyes tracked my big brother pulling him gently away to sit down, two bottles dangling from his free hand.
I closed my eyes on a wave of fresh tears. For a moment, I could have sworn I felt a tiny nose brush against my ear, then it was gone.
