Harlee was like no other cat. She seemed to think of herself as a "guard cat", never leaving our sides and sleeping right by me every night. She like to "talk" alot and lick your hand. Her purr could be heard from down the hall, and she was just a fuzzy ball of sweetness. I got Harlee when she was two months old. She was playful and cute, and we needed another cat in the house to play with our other cat, Hallie. I spotted her at the pound when we were looking, and I instantly fell in love with her adorable self. When we brought her home, she fit right in. Her and Hallie got along great, they immiedaitly started playing together like they had known eachother for years. It seemed as though she was meant to be in our family. As months pasted, we fell even more in love with Harlee. She was perfect in every way. On May 6, 2009, I was in the backyard watering the plants. Harlee and Hallie wanted to come out with me, and so I let them. It wasn't unusual for them to be outside, they went out frequently, but perferred to sleep indoors. I remember smiling as they rolled around in the grass and chased eachother on the lawn. I started to get thirsty, so I went inside to get a glass of water. I was only gone for a minute or two, and when I came back outside, I heard a horrible noise. I jerked my head to where the sound was coming from, and saw Hallie perched on top of the fence, crying louder then ever. He then jumped across the fence, and that's when I heard it: My baby Harlee was screaming from the other side of the fence. My instincs kicked in and I ran and looked over. It was the most devastating thing I have ever seen in my whole life. There was my baby, struggling helplessly while TWO PITBULLS attacked her! Hallie was hanging on to the pitbulls back, still screaming. Without thinking, I jumped over the fence to rescue my baby from being eaten alive. I shoved one pitbull off, but the other one wouldn't let go of her. I jabbed my fingers into it's eyes and grabbed my Harlee away from it. She lay in my arms helplessly, still meowing faintly. I started sobbing hysterically, this could NOT be happening! My baby was just playing TWO minutes ago! She was JUST fine!!! I climbed back over the fence still hanging on to her and screamed for my mom, who was inside the house. She ran out after hearing my terrified shriek, and took the whole scene in: Me, callopsed on the ground and rocking a bleeding Harlee. I just kept on saying, "I'm so sorry baby, I'm so sorry. Please breathe sweetheart!" My mom cried out and told me she needed to get Harlee to the hospital, NOW. We drove fanticly to the nearest vet, and now that I look back on this, I'm suprised we didn't get pulled over. Every time her breathing would falter for one moment, I would think, this is it. I've lost her. She is going to die. Some how, she made it all the way to the vets, her paws bloody, but her claws locked on my shirt. She would whimper now and then, and I kissed what was left of her beautiful oarnge coat. We ran into the vets, my mom barefoot, and me sobbing uncontollably. They immeidatly rushed out with nurses who took her from me. I tried to go with them through the doors, but they wouldn't let me. "We'll take care of it from here." They kept telling me, but I didn't want to listen. What does "take care of it" mean? Were they going to put her down? About 10 minutes later they called us in, and the nurse led us to a room where the vet was in. She told us that Harlee was being rushed into imidiate surgery, but when she had looked her over, it looked as though the dogs had just broken skin and fat, and hadn't touched any important organs or things like that. I started to breath easy. Maybe my baby would be fine....She told us to go home and that she would give us a call when the surgery was done. When we went home, I took a shower and threw away my shirt. I didn't want to remember this horrific event every time I put on that shirt. My dad took care of the neighbor when we were gone, notifying them that thier dogs attacked my baby. They needed to know, I mean, tuffs of my Harlee's HAIR was in thier backyard. He also captured Hallie, who was crouched under one of our chairs in the backyard. He wouldn't come to my dad, and had to be pulled out. I remembered seeing him trying to help Harlee escape by grabbing onto the pitbulls. He is my brave, little baby. My mom told me to go to sleep, but of course, I couldn't. Harlee was somewhere strange and different from her home. The vet's she was at wasn't even our regular one - it hadn't been open at the time. Around 1 in the morning, the vet called. My mom answered and paced around the kitchen while I sat nervously in a chair. After a quiet moment while the vet talked, my mom let out a sob and said, "Let her go. She is trying to die." My mind whrilled. My baby Harlee....was DEAD?! When she hung up the phone, she grabbed me and we cried with eachother. I didn't go back to sleep. The vet had called to say that in the middle of surgery, they noticed that her lungs were collapsing. When they looked closer, it became clear the pitbulls had punctured her lungs. Without the oxygen that she was hooked up to, she wouldn't be able to breathe. They tried taking her off it a couple times, but each time, she would just stop breathing all together. I remembered my mom's words: "Let her go. She is trying to die." It still kills me to think about her dying away from home on a cold, metal table. I would have rather she died in my arms. I miss my Harlee so very much, and I think about her every day. Hallie misses her greatly, and he looks for her around the house, meowing as he goes. I will always miss you my Harlee, and I am glad I had you for the time I did. I cannot tell you how sorry i am.
So goodbye for now, my beautful Harlee baby.
I am waiting to hold you again.