Memories
I just finished reading a blog post and it really got to me. The post talked about the discovery, life and eventually death of their kitty. It felt as if it was a carbon copy of the life that my Kitty had with us. I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down when I read how he had The Talk with his wife about putting him down. It was the same with Kitty.
I loved love Kitty. He was my first and favorite. I loved it when he would spiral down into a ball to sleep. His favorite napping place was inside a cardboard box, no matter the size. He would twitch when he slept imagining he was chasing birds in the backyard. I called him 'my little Hunter.' He'd often bring in his catch: a squirrel, a bird, a mouse...but he preferred just to leave them on the carpet for all to see instead of taking it outside. When he wanted affection he would bat his sleepy little eyes and I'd cave.
He was old. He adopted us when he was already a cat. He stayed with us for 11 years. I was at college when my sister called me. I had just gotten out of class and I was standing by the Physics 2000 building. When I heard her voice, I new immediately that something was wrong.
"What's wrong," I asked. "Is it Kitty?"
"Yea...he's sick Deb. Really sick. We took him to the vet but there's nothing we can do."
We talked for a few minutes more. I was numb. I vaguely remember the rest of what she said as I walked back to my dorm room. As soon as the door closed I fell into my chair and broke down. It remains one of the saddest moments of my life.
I still have and wear Kitty's old tag from when we used to live in the Bay Area. I keep it to remember and for love. He was a part of my family so I carry my family with me always. I'm hardly never without it.
I still get choked up when I think about him. He'll always be my little Kitty. I just hope that if there is an afterlife, he'll be there to warm my lap.
I loved love Kitty. He was my first and favorite. I loved it when he would spiral down into a ball to sleep. His favorite napping place was inside a cardboard box, no matter the size. He would twitch when he slept imagining he was chasing birds in the backyard. I called him 'my little Hunter.' He'd often bring in his catch: a squirrel, a bird, a mouse...but he preferred just to leave them on the carpet for all to see instead of taking it outside. When he wanted affection he would bat his sleepy little eyes and I'd cave.
He was old. He adopted us when he was already a cat. He stayed with us for 11 years. I was at college when my sister called me. I had just gotten out of class and I was standing by the Physics 2000 building. When I heard her voice, I new immediately that something was wrong.
"What's wrong," I asked. "Is it Kitty?"
"Yea...he's sick Deb. Really sick. We took him to the vet but there's nothing we can do."
We talked for a few minutes more. I was numb. I vaguely remember the rest of what she said as I walked back to my dorm room. As soon as the door closed I fell into my chair and broke down. It remains one of the saddest moments of my life.
I still have and wear Kitty's old tag from when we used to live in the Bay Area. I keep it to remember and for love. He was a part of my family so I carry my family with me always. I'm hardly never without it.
I still get choked up when I think about him. He'll always be my little Kitty. I just hope that if there is an afterlife, he'll be there to warm my lap.