My visit to the Human Society gave way to me getting the black cat I was looking for. I named his Meshaul. He was only a few months old but grew to become a very large cat. He was my friend and my baby. He was with me through thick and thin. Then suddenly, he got sick. Don't know how, but visit after visit to the vets, including a visit to LaFayette University Animal Hospital in Indiana, he was diagonosed with some sort of cancer. He would fill up with fluid, which had to be drained weekly. He was doing good but I knew he was not going to live long. I would not let him be in pain if that came about. I know that cat's have a high tolerance for pain, and I prayed he would just fade away when the time came and not suffer. I came home after work and discovered him not moving and laid him down on a blanket. He struggled to get up but couldn't. Then he cried out. Oh God, what do I do? I was totally against putting him to sleep, but I just couldn't let him be in pain. So the dreadful ride to the emergency vet was next. We got there and I refused to leave him. I held him as I watched him die. I cried and cried. My baby was gone in seconds. I had him cremated and still have the ashes on my dresser. I was very mournful and felt horrible that I had to have him put to sleep. The very thought of him or the sound of his name brought me to tears. I hated myself for what I thought was just an awful thing to do. But he was in pain and dying. I just couldn't let him suffer. As time went on, I never felt better about the whole ordeal. I just felt worse and worse. I would grieve for him all the time. Then, about a year later, I had the most wonderful dream about him. I saw him walking down the street and called out to him. He ran towards me and jumped into my arms. He was no longer sick, his fur that had been shaved off of him during his numerous test, had grown back. And he looked healthy. I kissed him and held him tight. But then he jumped out of my arms and just walked away. Then I woke up. And it was then that I realized that he came back to me to help me heal. I was grieving and hurting for him. He came back to show me that he was ok and that it was alright that he was gone. He was happy and healthy again. After that dream, I no longer felt the guilt that I had felt. My grieving constantly had stopped. I had never dreamt of him before his death or ever again after that dream. I still miss him very much, but I know now that I did the right thing. He came back to help me. We had a strong bond and my furry friend was now taking care of me. I will never forget the dream or him. God bless him and all of our wonderful pets in heaven. They are safe and happy there. Donna Frey