I was driving home from work one cold afternoon in October and in the middle of the road ahead of me I see this little ball of fur curled up, looking right at me. I swerved my car and instead of continuing on I pulled over in a nearby driveway, got out of my car and approached the kitten. I called to her, she was tiny and lethargic, her eyes were going in different directions and her tongue was sticking out of her mouth, she was dirty and cold, but still managed to muster up the strength to meow to me and tried to walk to me. I scooped her up and knew then that my life would never be the same. I took her home, everyone believing she would not live the weekend. I never gave up hope, "she has fight in her, she's going to make it," I'd say...and so she did. I took her to the vet shortly after and she tested positive for Feline Leukemia. "Typically, under these circumstances people have their cats put down," my vet informed me. "No," I said, "She's going to have her chance at life, however long that may be." So from then on (Chloe) and I were inseparable. She was my whole world, I knew that no matter what was happening in my life and how bad I was hurting, she was always there, never failing. She was my first real pet, and I needed her as much as she needed me. The Leukemia made her sleep more than average cats, but other than that the vets couldn't tell she even had the disease. She played like a normal cat, ate like a normal cat and did all the things cats without the disease can do. EVERYONE loved her! I always used to say she had enough personality for 10 cats. My fondest memories are of picking her up every night and putting her in the bed beside me. I'd cover her up and we'd fall asleep, her curled up against my side and me to the sound of her purring. She would stay there all night with me until it was time to get up in the morning.
Then my world crashed. Without warning I noticed Chloe stopped eating-"which is usually the highlight of her day =)" and she was sleeping a LOT more than usual, in one spot at a time for hours on end (not like her), when I would pick her up she would stand for a moment then lie back down. She began losing weight and turning pale in nose and ears. I rushed her to the vet and they confirmed my worst fears. "This is the Feline Leukemia," my vet said. I felt my whole world give out from under me as I stared down at her lying on the examing table, the doctor continued, "usually cats that are born with FL and make it past 6 months usually flat-line at this age. 80% never make it past their 2nd or 3rd birthday." "Are you SURE it's the FL?" I asked the vet, hoping for some misdiagnosis. "No, this is it." I began to cry and asked what my options were, even though I already knew the answer. I looked down at Chloe, she was running a fever, she had lost 3 lbs and she was so pale and weak, I couldn't let her suffer like that for one moment longer. I knew her time had come, but I was not ready to say goodbye. The doctor excused himself to give me a moment to call my mother (who was also VERY attached to my cat). We cried together. But as I looked up at the table from where I sat on the bench, Chloe worked up the strength somehow to sit herself up. I looked at her, my eyes burning with tears. The strength she had even in the end still amazes me. She mustered up all she had and walked to the edge of the examining table and stretched her neck out to me so I could touch/pet her. I knew then that she was in her own way trying to comfort me and tell me that everything was going to be ok, that she was ready to go, and she knew her time had come. I got up and went to her. I held her in my arms and whispered in her ear as I had done EVERYDAY since the first day I found her, "mommy loves you....SO MUCH!" I told her, "mommy will be ok, you've made my life so wonderful, you saved me, this is what I can do for you now. You don't have to fight anymore. It's your turn to rest and be peace my little one." I could feel her relief seep through her into me. I knew from experience, death was always harder for those who are left behind. The vet returned and said, "I know this is never easy, especially with FL cats...we get attached to the smallest of creatures. You really are doing the best thing for her. You gave her 2-3 wonderful years of her life, no cat could've asked for more, she was very lucky" I looked down at Chloe once more, "no, I was the lucky one...attached is not the word I'd use...she is my WHOLE world, its just been her, me and no one else. Even in the state she's in she's quietly suffering...she is stronger than any animal I know. Now she can be at peace." I got to hold her as they administered a muscle relaxer than a few minutes later the dreaded shot that would tear my baby from my life forever. As I saw the shots go in I felt them going into myself. In a matter of moments, she was gone. My world collapsed and all I could do was hold her and stare at her lifeless body, "how was I ever going to go beyond that moment. Things would never be the same." I wanted things to stop right there in that moment. The vet was kind enough to wrap her in her towel and place her back in her carrying case for me so I could take her out to the green fields of my mother's property and bury her in private. I remember getting into my car and screaming at the top of my lungs. So loud I think the heavens could hear me.
Later that afternoon I drove my "baby kitten" out to my mother's house and we buried her in a 1/2 sunny/shady spot next to our 2 dogs (one we had just lost not 2 months before). We said our goodbyes and proceeded with our family traditions. 1:Cutting off a small piece of hair to save in an envelope, so we would always have a piece of them with us. 2:placing a strand of our hair with the body to allow them to take a piece of us with them. 3: lighting our religious candle to help them find their way to the afterlife and to show them that we are thinking about them. Then, we finally layed my kitten to rest.
My life still feels incomplete. I feel like I am once again alone. But I know that Chloe is in heaven waiting for me. No more pain, no more suffering. My family and animals before her will look after her until she and I are together again. R.I.P. Chloe ("Mommy Loves You...Always!")