On February 22, 1953, one of Hemingway’s cats, Uncle Willie, was hit by a car. Following the accident, Hemingway sent his close friend Gianfranco Ivancich the following distraught letter:
Dear Gianfranco:Lifted in its entirety from The Queen is not Amused...but I am.
Just after I finished writing you and was putting the letter in the envelope Mary came down from the Torre and said, ‘Something terrible has happened to Willie.’ I went out and found Willie with both his right legs broken: one at the hip, the other below the knee. A car must have run over him or somebody hit him with a club. He had come all the way home on the two feet of one side. It was a multiple compound fracture with much dirt in the wound and fragments protruding. But he purred and seemed sure that I could fix it.
I had Rene get a bowl of milk for him and Rene held him and caressed him and Willie was drinking the milk while I shot him through the head. I don’t think he could have suffered and the nerves had been crushed so his legs had not begun to really hurt. Monstruo wished to shoot him for me, but I could not delegate the responsibility or leave a chance of Will knowing anybody was killing him…
Have had to shoot people but never anyone I knew and loved for eleven years. Nor anyone that purred with two broken legs.
Oh my.
ReplyDeleteI am a huge animal lover.
I cannot bring myself to kill anything...I even have a glass & a piece of cardboard to capture bugs & put them outside where they belong.
I am also not a fan of Hemingway.
Now having said all of that...I can, sadly, understand wanting to put your loved one out of their misery.
Using a gun...I don't own one...never will. I can't imagine doing this, but this was Hemingway.
Me, I would be tearfully rushing to the vet to 'end the misery', somewhat less violently.
All in all...no less love involved...just very sad.
When I read this story I cried. I cannot bear to see an animal suffer and as I get older it gets harder. We have always had dogs but after our lovely Max died I cannot think of going through it all again.
ReplyDeleteUnless you get a bird or turtle that are very long lived, eventually that grief will come. But don’t you think, as in Hemingway’s case, 11 years of joy are worth it?
ReplyDeleteWe've buried a lot of pets over the last 35 years. Each one gave us a lot of joy and our house always seems empty without a pet. We didn't go looking for a cat but Joyce found us and I'm glad she did (although we got a $700 dental bill for her on Friday).
ReplyDeleteI'm not a Hemingway fan either, but this is certainly an affecting story.
ReplyDeleteI have only ever killed an animal once in my life. Here in England, myxomatosis is a scourge. One morning, many years ago when my children were very young, I found a diseased rabbit on our lawn, its head covered in tumours, eyes blinded, panting and seemingly in severe pain.
I borrowed my father-in-law's air gun (neither he nor my husband were prepared to do so) and I shot the rabbit in the head.
It may have taken several days for it to have died naturally. Possibly a passing fox would have killed it but they tend to leave diseased animals to their fate.
Although the rabbit was saved from a long drawn out, painful death, I felt truly awful for days, for having taken the life of a living creature.
Similarly, over my 50+ years, many of my beloved pets have either died naturally, or been euthanased. Pain at the loss of a much loved pet should never be underestimated.
Thank you for your comment Sandra. My husband had to dispatch one of our cats years ago when she was hit by a car. It was awful but no more so than when our much loved Cavaliers died after long and happy lives. I know that there are many who would say, "It's only an animal" but we know better, don't we?
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