“Now that you’re gone, I hear a song
Sung to me ten angels strong…
it hurts to leave, but at least you’re free…”
Last Saturday I had to do one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do in life. I had to take my cat to the vets to be put to sleep…I had to take my 16 year old cat Missy back in April for the same reason when her Mesothelioma made it impossible for her to eat. I remember adopting Snap and his brother Patch when I was in Kindergarten. My mom had them in the back of the car when she picked me up from school. Patch left us a while ago, but Snap was full of life to the end. He was still going up and down the stairs, jumping up on the bed as best as his arthritis would allow…but he wasn’t eating and he was starting to distance himself. I’m a pretty tearful person in general. I cry at the movies, I cry if I hear about something tragic happening. I cry far too easily and it’s something I know about myself. This is still tearing me apart inside. I expect to hear him behind me, or waiting for me when I come out of my room. 21 years I’ve had this cat. He was a part of my life for just about every one of them. My dog Sydney was kept away from him because she’s so big I was constantly worried she’d knock him down and trample him in her excitement at a possible playmate. Skeezix, my other cat seems so lonely now and I don’t know what to do for him. He’s petrified of Sydney, and scares at the slightest sound. I don’t know what more to say…I just needed to get that out.