November 2, 2006

I don't think I will forget that day any time soon.
I went to work with my head filled with all of the usual stress, ran long in rehearsal and missed my nail apt. (I still think Heidi left early, though). I went home early. Tom wasn't there and I didn't know where he was. It frustrated me some that he didn't leave a note (he ran an errand because he thought I was going to be late due to my nail apt). I fed Maggie and let her run around for a few minutes while I checked my e-mail. My intention was to let Anne out once Maggie had a few minutes. Tom got home in the interim. He was surprised to see me. He asked if I had fed Anne and I told him not yet but I was about to. He sat down next to me and said we needed to talk. He had been off all week and had been spending some extra time with little Anne. He told me she hadn't had that good of a week. She seemed to be slowing down. At that moment things ran slow. MY KITTY! She had been with me for 16 years. I adopted her when she was barely 2 months old and didn't weigh 2 pounds. She had been there through so much. She was there when the world fell apart. She was the source of so many stories and ideas. I still wanted to take more photos of her....to sit on the couch and cuddle her up while she purred.
He told me of how she seemed to be developing new problems. She had just stopped grooming...so strange for her, she was always such a princess. We went to her room and opened the door, she slowly made her way out. Maggie tried to greet her friend and we stopped her...she didn't understand, this was what she had always done. Anne tried to get back to her room for dinner...she could barely walk, her back legs kept giving out from under her. It broke my heart. I started to cry. Tom and I talked. We were going to wait until Friday, I was going to take the day off and we would take her. We talked a little more and I cried more...my heart was breaking. Then I knew I needed to call the vet. They were there and said to bring her in right away. I changed quickly and grabbed her blankets. Anne was silent, so unlike her-she always 'talked' during car rides...she did not like riding in a car at all. When we got to the vet, we were the only patients there (thank you Lord). When we walked in I started to cry. They were so kind. We went into an exam room (second one on the right) and talked to the assistant. We told him everything we could about her. I opened her kennel and she didn't even fuss, and I knew she was so sick. She didn't complain when I got her out and she just lay in her blanket on the exam table. She looked so sad...her fur was messy, eyes a little runny, ears needed cleaning, nails needed a trip, not saying anything. At the moment I thought of how I had planned to give her a bath and groom this weekend and the tears started again. The vet came in and checked her out. With him was the tech that had wrangled Anne during her check-up in July...the tech remembered my little fighter. Both of them were so kind and gentle. He told us it was her kidneys and that extreme measures would only buy us a little time. I knew I had to let her go...that if I truly loved her I would let her go. The Dr. and the tech left us with her to say good-bye and make final choices. I stroked her little face and paws. Tom and I talked to her. And I started to try to think of a house without her. The vet came back in and we talked a little more. He told us of the process, we talked about staying with her until 'the end'...we all agreed that it was probably best if we didn't...if we would have the last memory being while she was alive. (plus I don't think I could have handled to see them put a needle into her heart...she was so small that was the best way to administer the dose). I wrapped her in her baby blanket, kissed her one more time, took her tags off of her and let them take her. We hugged and I cried more (how many tears can there be???) and then we left...I cried or sat in silence all the way home. At home, Maggie knew there was something wrong. Where was her friend? I sat on the couch and tried to think. Tom gave me a small container of ice cream and I at the whole thing. Eventually, we went to bed.
My little girl is gone and it hurts. Someone once asked a minister if there were going to be animals in heaven. They responded that if animals would make heaven even better then they would be there (a paraphrase). Maybe one day I'll get to heaven and among those there to meet me will be a sweet little, grey and black tabby cat with big eyes who blessed my life for 16 years and left much sooner than I would like. Maybe right now there are angels rubbing her tummy and showing her the best spots for her to hide but still be able to watch everything. Maybe Tom's mom is in heaven and she will take care of her. All I know is that I'm not ready to have another cat...maybe not for a very long time.
Sept 11, 1990-Nov 2, 2006~Anne Shirley Tweeddale Tate...my cat, my little girl, my angel