This is a true story about someone who meant a great deal to our family, someone who was, and is, deeply loved and respected. Her name was Grabie.

Some might say "What kind of a name is Grabie for a person?" Well, it was her name, and it suited her; it was a combination of the words "gray" and "baby" because, you see, Grabie was our cat. She was our baby, and she was much loved.

She came into our lives a little over nine years ago, after the untimely death of another cat of cancer. She was a smallish gray cat with specks of tan and white in her fur, and a very prominent spot of tan on her chin. Her eyes were a pale green with just a hint of yellow.

Judging by her description, one might be tempted to perceive Grabie as a typical gray farm cat, indistinguishable from any other. Grabie, however, was anything but typical.

In spite of her small size, she was very regal, without the arrogance that is often associated with it. She was by nature very gentle, gracious, and loving, and it was these characteristics that allowed her to command the love and respect of anyone around her.

Her beautiful character was never more so in evidence than as a mother and grandmother. She always put her kittens first, as well as the kittens of her children. When her kittens were old enough to eat solid food, Grabie didn't eat until they did, stepping aside so as to give them a clear path to the bowl. This particular trait persisted right on into the adulthood of her kittens that we retained. Even when they were grown, she let her kids eat first; only then would she eat.

Her instinct for motherhood did not extend only to her descendants. When we adopted yet another cat from the pound, one who was on "death row", she didn't treat him like an outsider; rather, she treated him like one of her own. Before she ate, she would step back and let him and the others eat, and, just like she did with her own, she would groom him frequently. That cat could teach human mothers lessons in motherhood. She was a wonderful mom.

However, her mothering wasn't reserved only for cats: she mothered us, too. Whenever one of us was feeling bad, for any reason, she would be close by, lending a certain amount of comfort that was always most welcome. Whatever the reason for melancholy moods, she was always around, and whenever we cuddled her, things just didn't seem so bad after that. We felt so loved and appreciated.

She was the most patient cat that I've ever seen. She enjoyed being petted, and would often show this by prancing, almost like a little horse. She didn't particularly like to be picked up but, as my wife said, Grabie was just the right cuddling size. So, Grabie tolerated being cuddled.

Well, I could go on and on about this wonderful little person with four feet, but that would be too difficult. You see, on the morning of May 29, 2007, Grabie was struck by a car and killed. We weren't home at the time and, according to the neighbors, Animal Control picked up her body around noon. We didn't find this out until after nine in the evening, so they told us we couldn't claim the body or even identify it until ten in the morning the following day.

So I was at the shelter forty-five minutes early the next day. I sat in my car dreading the moment that I would claim her body, unable to think of anything else. When I finally got inside, I was totally unprepared for the horrible news that I received.

When I inquired as to the possibility of claiming Grabie's body, I was politely told that the load of dead animals she was part of was taken directly the same evening to the landfill and buried along with the garbage. I was also told that, normally, the bodies were held for a while to give owners a chance to claim them, but they were full, so the bodies were taken to the landfill. The Animal Control officer apologized: I didn't say anything, I just left.

I know it's not considered "cool" or "macho" for a grown man to cry but, frankly, I don't care. I'm man enough to admit that I do cry, and I did just that before I even got back to my car. I really let it all out when I got in the driver's seat, and it took me several minutes to compose myself before I could drive home to share the devastating news with my wife, son, and daughter. The anger and sadness was almost overwhelming, and just the sheer horror of it so debilitated me that I couldn't even go into work.

That precious little cat deserved so much better.

I fully realize that some people won't be able to relate to this from a pet lover's standpoint if they aren't pet lover's themselves. So to put it in a perspective they might be familiar with, it's a lot like finding out your own child has been killed, and the body buried by officialdom in the dump. That's what it felt like to us.

Grabie was more than just a cat, and much more than a mere pet: she was family, a friend, and she was loved as such. She didn't deserve to be treated the way she was treated. There's no telling how many hundreds or thousands of times this has happened to pets and their families. If you're not a pet owner, then you won't understand; if you are, and you have ever lost a pet, dog or cat, then you know exactly what I mean. Something like this should never, ever happen.

My family and myself are going to try every possible avenue to get her body back. She deserves to rest among her family, in peace and dignity. If you can help, contact us at AmarYckiir@aol.com or at Bluedragonteen88@aol.com. Your help will be appreciated.

Farewell, Grabie. We love you, always.

Love, Rick.