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Growing up, I never had pets. My mom didn't want any. So when my then-girlfriend and I got a cat, it was kind of a big deal. We went to the shelter and toured the cat cages and all. There was one cat that came right to the door and started INSISTENTLY meowing, DEMANDING our affection. She wouldn't take no for an answer, and exacted her due in head scratches. That was the moment we decided, nearly as soon as we walked in, that we needed to adopt her. That was sixteen years ago. The shelter estimated she was approximately two, and had been on the streets for at least some period of time. She had a slight wheeze, and turned out to be near euthanization determination, before our state became no-kill. So we quite literally saved her life. Her name was Mia, which was perfect as far as we were concerned. She was such a social kitty, always jumping into peoples' laps for pets. She was also hellaciously naughty, jumping on places she shouldn't have, but that's cats. Over the past week, she has gotten SO thin, and this once nimble, acrobatic cat now struggles to walk three feet without staggering sideways. She's resting near constantly. Tomorrow, assuming she makes it through the night, we will be taking her to the vet to go to sleep one last time. She's not the first pet I've lost, our other cat died a few years ago. But I'm going to be saying goodbye to a friend who I've poured love into daily for almost half my life, and it just hurts. It's a sick and painful dichotomy between taking her home from the shelter and her roaming all over the car, to taking her to the vet wrapped in a blanket or tshirt so there's a familiar smell of us to comfort her as we go to say goodbye. I know with time, this sharp hurt will lessen, but that's cold comfort to me in the here and now. I love you, Mia. You can rest, sweetheart, you don't owe us anything else, you deserve comfort now  
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Feb 20, 2023 03:25
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| # ¿ May 9, 2024 12:18 |
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