Not only people are afraid of loneliness, as long as it is life, as long as they live, they will inevitably be destroyed by loneliness!
It was the sad story of an old cat on Christmas Eve two years ago.
Living in Canada, I shared a small room on the second floor with Haro, a divorced German man who lives alone. From the beginning, I found that Haro was really a lonely man, accompanied by an old cat, a frequent visitor who looked like a homeless friend, or his wife who has been divorced for many years, and occasionally brought their five-year-old daughter to see him. He is really a lonely person...
The protagonist of the story is the old yellow cat who is too old to walk. Haro told me that it was about twenty years old. I never knew that cats could live so old. The sparse yellow hair wrapped around the thin body, like an old woman in her nineties, and she couldn't even walk.
The landlord, Haro, was going to Vancouver to spend Christmas with his family. Before leaving, he asked me to take care of the old cat. Of course, I agreed, but it was just a little effort.
The next night, the old cat uncharacteristically appeared outside my door. When I opened the door, I was startled by it. I saw it sitting there quietly with its eyelids down. I think it was probably attracted by the sound of the TV in my room!
Do you know loneliness too? I asked it, Are you lonely, too?
It didn't answer me, I don't think it understood me. I opened the door, let it creep into my room, sat next to me, and watched TV with me all night. I felt like an old man at night, longing to be cared for, to be noticed, to have a little sound in the world, not just breathless darkness and dead silence...
On the third day I had allergies and it was so itchy all over my body. I think it was cat hair. I've always been allergic to cats. As a last resort, I tried to kick the old cat out of the room, but it didn't want to leave, so I sneaked into my bathtub when I wasn't paying attention, and I couldn't get rid of it no matter what. It scared me every time I went into the bathroom, and the allergies were really miserable.
So I came up with a plan, ran downstairs to turn on the landlord's TV, and shouted for it to come down for dinner. Sure enough, it ran downstairs with a limp. I took the opportunity to surround the stairs with cardboard boxes, and temporarily solved the problem.
The next day, the old cat tried to jump over the carton and go upstairs, but the old cat couldn't jump high. After a few times, it finally gave up. I was also relieved. The landlord didn't dare to turn off the TV for a moment. I think it should be no problem to have a sound accompany it!
On Christmas Eve, I went to a friend's house for a happy Christmas party, and it wasn't until I got back to my dark home and saw the shimmer of the TV in the living room that I suddenly remembered the lonely old cat.
"Kitty!" I called to it softly and opened a can of cat food to feed it. After a while, it staggered out, and I squatted down distressed to touch its head, blaming myself for not being able to overcome difficulties to accompany it. It's not like I have so many friends, poor old cat has only himself.
After Christmas, the old cat was gone, and when I found that the food and water hadn't been touched for days, I started to get anxious and looked everywhere I could, but no matter what I called it, it didn't show up anymore, it seemed like it had evaporated from the house.
I cried and called my landlord in far away Vancouver, who urgently contacted his ex-wife who lived nearby to come back and see. I got home late that day, the lights were on, and it was Haro's ex-wife who opened the door. She spoke German English and told me sadly that this afternoon she found the stiff old cat in a corner of the basement, which had died a few days ago.
I was stunned, unable to believe my ears.
"It's old, it's gone peacefully, it's not painful..." She choked and told me that she had buried the old cat in the courtyard.
I cried that night and couldn't sleep for a long time. I intuitively thought that I had killed the old cat. If I hadn't ignored it cruelly and let it spend several long nights alone in the dark, it shouldn't have gone so early! It's all my fault.
Today, a few years later, when I think of this old thing, I tell myself to treat every life tenderly, because they all have hearts, they all need love and care, and they all know the taste of loneliness!
Don't think that cats like loneliness. There was once an old cat who died because of loneliness.