Registered: 1518139560 Posts: 2
This February last year, I lost my first cat. He wasn't easy to love, but I had always been committed to him, because I felt that nobody could give him the love that I could. It's not that he was a bad cat, he just wasn't affectionate at all, and I found it hard to bond with him. Regardless, when he passed this time last year I grieved so hard over my first, and Tybee, his sister was right there with him and me throughout it all. I always knew that I would be fine, because I still had her and she was my everything.
Tybee had been with us since she was 3 weeks old. My sister found her in a dumpster at work, and knew that she needed to be taken in. My ex insisted that we home her, and I reluctantly agreed. She quickly grew on me, as we bottle fed her and she bonded with us both. I still remember waking up in the middle of the night not hearing her mew for food thinking that she was dead, and thought to myself "oh my god, this must be what being a parent is like". It is the closest thing that I can relate to it, as I myself do not have kids. I would find her curled up in my lap, or near my feet when I was at the computer, as at the time I was an online college student. I found myself knowing the meaning of bliss as I looked at her cute little face so contempt purring gently against me. A couple of years passed, and my ex and I ended up splitting up, and he knew that I needed to take her because she had bonded with Shinobi. It just wasn't fair to take her away from him. Little did he know I was going to take her regardless what he thought. After all, my sister gave her to us, and I was absolutely smitten with her. I'm horrible arent I? LOL. So many years we spent together, and she brought endless joy to my life. After shinobi passed she became the dominant cat in the house, and she would meow at me from on top of the litter box, reminding me that I needed to feed her. She had never displayed such vocals until after that happened, and I guess it was because she knew that she was on top. I would walk past her as she sat on the couch, and she would put her paw out like, "Hey dad! I'm right here! Pay attention to me!" Everytime my boyfriend sneezed she would mer-mew at him, and we always said that it was her way of saying bless you, or perhaps that she was making sure he was ok. Everytime I sat in the computer chair she would come up to me and put her paw out and touch me, letting me know that she needed to be in my lap. How could I resist? When we would lay down to go to sleep she would dart in the bedroom and make her rounds between he and I, purring and kissing us goodnight. It was the most precious thing ever. I loved her so much. 5 days ago I noticed that she was was beginning to throw up, there were marks all over the kitchen floor. I wasn't sure if she had an upset stomach, and I had a test in nursing school this wednesday. I watched her to make sure she was ok, and realized that something was seriously wrong. I tried to give her water with a syringe without the needle in, and she threw it up 20 minutes later. She kept going in the spare bedroom in the corner, and I would pick her up and say "hey babe, what's wrong?" I saw her over the water bowl for hours at a time and I knew that she was so thirsty, but felt so sick. I couldn't handle seeing her like that, and I felt like she knew that it was time. The next day we went to the vet. The vet told me that it seemed like she had something blocking her intestine, and I told her that she liked to eat things she shouldn't, as most cats do. I felt awful, but I agreed that exploratory surgery was the best thing to do. We had a CBC done on her, and found out that she had diabetes, and that her liver enzymes were extremely high meaning that she was unable to go through surgery because she wouldn't handle the anesthesia well, and she probably had pancreatitis. The vet wanted me to take her to another clinic which has a reputation of being extremely costly, to have another diagnosis done on her, and we were looking at a bill of around 1700 on top of injecting her twice a day with insulin needles. I couldn't do it. It's not that the money was too much, I would have done ANYTHING for her, but my friends urged me that perhaps it was time to let her go. I couldn't imagine injecting her with needles every day, and her being happy with that quality of life. She was 8. I feel horrible and that I made a mistake. She purred until she left me, and I held her so close and told her that we had a good ride and that I was so grateful for all of the memories that we had together. So many tears were lost in her mane throughout the years, and now my house feels so empty. It doesn't even feel real that she's not hear anymore, even though I made the decision to not put her through the pain anymore. I'll miss you always, Tybee. I don't think that I'll ever find another cat like you, and you were kindred to me. You truly were the light of this house, and when you left me that light went out. I can't even handle the fact that I've lost both of my fur children in less than a year. But I'm praying that you are with Shinobi, if rainbow bridge even exists.