Dear Abby,
I have been looking at your kitten pictures, you were so little your tail stood strait up in excitement all the time. You had your orange power dot on the top of your head. Everyone said how special that was. Your big paws were wonderful, I knew you were going to be a big girl and I loved that. You knew I was going to take care of you. I knew I had a best friend, and one I thought would be there forever.
You were there for me, when I would study for an exam, when we moved to another state, when I felt so alone, through the birth of two boys....all those days you were there, and I loved you more than ever, but I also took for granted that you were always with me.
I have always considered myself a cat person, yet I knew nothing about your illness. You were almost twelve, and your sister is going to be sixteen, so you had many more good years left, right? I didn't worry that your weight had dropped a bit at your last checkup, I thought that was because I changed your food (for your sister really). I ignored the tiny specks of blood that were left on the blanket when you got up, I was baffled by them, I could not fathom that you were sick. You were always my strong, healthy girl. Why was I so naive?
Then you started throwing up (something many cats do, but not you) and I still was blind for a couple of weeks. Then it seemed so sudden. You stopped eating and you looked so skinny. It seemed to happen overnight. I rushed to the vet. Your blood results came back without anything overly alarming, yet you still didn't eat. An x-ray, an ultrasound, a biopsy later: adenocarcinoma of the colon that had spread.
I was going to do everything I could for you, no matter the personal or financial cost. Your surgery went well. The doctor said that your other organs looked good, but they could not see how fast it had already spread to your lymph nodes in your throat. You went through one round of chemo (it made you sick but you somehow got through it). We were fighting this thing and I was so grateful for everyday you were here. Things were going well, until you looked at me, and your big meow was almost silent, and I knew you were very, very sick. You stopped eating again, you could barely swallow, and if you did drink water you couldn't keep it down.
The fluids from the vet were to get you through the weekend. I couldn't let you go the day before Joe's birthday, we had to get through it (although joylessly, since I knew you were go to leave us). The blessing was that we had two beautiful days, and you got to go outside for a few minutes with me. The smells of spring and the sunshine made you look like your old self. I will never forget that time.
Even though you were in pain and not eating, you still wanted to be with us every chance you could. You would follow your routine and be with me and the boys, purring because you could no longer talk. You were in Colin's room for story time and you wanted to be with him, but after he fell asleep I brought you in with me. Can you sleep and cry at the same time? That is what I did all night with my arm around you and I know you barely slept because you were so uncomfortable. You would start swallowing hard and almost cough. I don't know if the pain medication the vet gave me helped you or not. I think it helped me knowing that I was trying in vain to do something for you.
Tuesday morning was the worst day of my life, because it was time for you to go. I felt so bad that I had made you wait that long, but at the same time, I know there is no place you would rather be than with us. Joe insisted that I say goodbye to you at home, he didn't want me to take you to the hospital because I was such a wreck. I didn't want you to feel alone. I know that you look to me to protect you, and I feel I failed you in your final hour. Yes, it was the best thing for me, but I am so sorry if you were afraid without me, baby girl.
Today I picked up your ashes and your paw print. I am going to find a very special place for them. I don't know what I am going to do without you. You were my best friend, constant companion, second mother to my boys. Colin misses you so much, sweetie. He loves you and will never forget the stories you shared together. You taught him how to love animals, I am so proud that a seven year old has such maturity and love toward animals because of you.
I know that time will help with this pain, but right now it is overwhelming. I will always remember you and thank you for being a wonderful girl and member of our family. I will always miss you in my heart, and love you forever.
Until we see each other again,
Always,
Valere (Mom)