My sweet Macy
I am sitting here on my lunch break, watching the rain fall down outside my office window against the yellow and red leaves on the trees. It's almost Thanksgiving my sweet Macy cat. Will this be the day? What will await me when I get home from work? Will you be able to hold out another night allowing us to spend one more evening together? Will you last one more day? Am I hopelessly, selfishly, or perhaps cruelly delaying the inevitable by wanting to keep you here when you really want to go so that the pain and sickness will finally be no more? Oh my sweet Macy, I so don't want to take that trip to the vet. But I know I will have to and the pain and sadness is almost overwhelming. I will always remember that Thanksgiving eve, the frenzy of the Walmart parking lot, the approaching storm, the bitter cold wind. I remember that small skinny black "rat" that was walking by the front tire of my truck looking at me with those big green eyes -- it was then when I realized you were no rat at all but a tiny kitten. It must have been instinct when I lifted you up, put you in the truck, and walked back into the store to buy the smallest bag of cat food I could find along with a bag of cheap cat litter and cat pan. Why would I need more, you would be going to the shelter the day after Thanksgiving anyway. You knew better. You knew you would transform this dog-man into a cat lover with your little purr and tiny meows. You have been so tolerant Macy. You tolerated football parties with the guys, business trips when you stayed by yourself for days, and of course when I married "mom" and the other cats that came with her. But your loyalty has been noted and I have cherished those days when I would get home and you would jump on my lap, circle around and sit. I thank you Mace and I am scared. I know you will never get well and I need to let you go. I need to finish this little note to you because it will be hard to explain to others why a 40 year old man in a suit and tie has tears running down his face because of his cat -- but you, mom, and I know you are so much more than that. There are so many things I will miss about you Mace. You getting me up in the morning so you can have your breakfast and me my coffee. Our little chats in the morning where you seemed to know what I was saying. You sitting with me at the computer.
Well no text message, no phone call, no email. Does that mean you are still holding on? Does that mean you have left this world on your own and Christy does not want to call me? Or do we make the trip today. I told myself it would be today but I don't want it to be today, I don't want it to be ever. As I finish this note, I promise I will never leave you. I promise that no matter how much it hurts, I will hold you until you close those green eyes and say goodbye. Writing this note does help -- Thank God for this website. I found it almost by accident as I was looking for pet memorial stones. It's almost Thanksgiving my cat. I love you.