George was my 20 year old cat, my everything, my baby boy. I told him my most intimate thoughts, cried to him, laughed with him and loved him in a way that was unimaginable to me. George was filled with arthritus and his organs starting shutting down. I did not want to let him go but I knew he was ready. On the last weekend I had taken him to the vet because he had fallen down the stairs and cut his chin. But he wasn't acting right and not eating well. The vet gave George a needle with antibiotics that would last two weeks. I didn't know at that time that George wouldn't. I placed George on my bed with his Denver Broncos blanket as I did for years. It was Saturday and he finally stopped eating. I tried to place some drops of water in his mouth but he only threw that up without even lifting his head. I knew he was dying. I will never forget the look in his eyes, a look as if to tell me he couldn'y do this anymore, a look that said please help me. I got the chance to tell him to wait for me in heaven along with my Dad and Grandpa. I told him I loved him and thanked him for all the years of happiness he gave me. That night I was so tired I just kissed him goodnight for the last time.
At some point in the early morning I felt his body jerk. I remember saying "just go to sleep George" because I was half asleep myself. When I woke he was dead. I remember screaming & crying and just saying no! no!, no! George, please no! I felt I wanted to die too. The pain, the emptiness, my heart was broken. My son-in-law buried him in the back yard, the yard he loved. He made a cross out of somme old wood and stuck it in the ground where George's broken body now laid. I remember staying in bed for a week not wanting to go to work, not wanting to eat, not wanting to talk to anyone, just sleep. After that week I was forced out of bed by my fiance', my Mom and daughter. I felt dead inside, somtintimes I still do. A few days later I wound up going on the net and adopting two orange tabby brothers - one looked just like George when he was a kitten. I'm still trying to adjust but find I'm holding back my feelings. The guilt I have for bringing the kittens home into George's house is sometimes overwhelming. But everyday I'm adjusting more and more. The kittens are cute and need special care and love because they too had a hard time of it. I do try everyday to get closer to them. I know it will come eventually.

But the one thing I do every morning and every evening as I look out the kitchen window toward the back yard, is to throw*- kisses and still tell George "I love him, always have and always will." I know I will see him again one day - because our bond continues on. The most imprtant thing I forgot is to thank God for answering my prayers by letting George live a long, happy and healthy life. And most importantly - to let him die at home in his own bed, giving George & I the chance to say our last goodby's till we meet again.
"My baby boy."