Misters

I decided to write this whole thing on my blog...I would normally just journal super long emotion filled things like this but I knew that my hand would cramp and I would never get out what I was/am really feeling. So far, it is helping keep sadness at bay...even one day later.

No words can express the love I felt for this silly kitty.

Our days started together shortly before I turned 15. I had bothered my parents, who were 'strictly dog people', to invest in a creature almost unknown to them. Little did they know, she'd change the way we viewed this family pet called a cat forever.

Misty was our very first cat. Bought from the local pet store solely because she had the markings of a cow. She wasn't terribly outgoing or cuddly but she'd put up with me for minute before taking flight from my lap. I don't remember too much from the early days as I'm sure I took her presence for granted. But what I do remember are the days that I needed to set out on my own from my family and, unfortunately, for two - almost three - years that meant Misty couldn't live with me. I did have family that was willing to keep her around for me until I could get a place of my own that allowed cats. Until then, I visited weekly and was saddened a lot because I could tell she wasn't happy living in a house with two small children, two dogs and two other cats (remember, Misty changed how my family viewed cats...there have been many in my family since) but she was a loner.

Then I remember landing myself a job that would allow me to get out of the roommate world (which wasn't always cat friendly, sorry Bekah) and into a single bedroom apartment that would allow my buddy to be by my side. So after securing said place, and starting my new obsession with Browne's Addition, before unpacking one single box, I headed to my sisters to snag my most precious possession. Unfortunately, by that time she had decided it would be fun to grab up some fleas from my sis's other pets and a double ear infection that would cost me a couple hundred in vet fees right off the bat...yea, thanks for that.

Living together was bliss...it was routine to find her cuddled by my side every morning. Fortunately for me, she wasn't the kind of cat that meowed or pawed at my face to wake me up. She was nice enough to just wait til I was coherent and she'd rush to her food bowl like it was always the first thing that should be on my list in the mornings. She wasn't the hairball hacking type either. I really lucked out. She followed me from place to place, always sitting or curled up right next to me or on her special spot on my couch. She never really broke from 'normal' as she was predictable. Possibly the easiest animal ever...well, I might be biased. It was during this time, however, that I found out what happens to a kitty when she gets a plastic bag wrapped around her neck like a cape. Possibly one of the most funniest, fondest stories...and only slightly cruel...promise. In my mind, that's what she gets for being so snoopy all the time.

I remember, once I started dating Bobby, that if he didn't agree with her or couldn't tolerate her, well I wouldn't tolerate him. It was funny...he had to approve of my cat before I'd approve of him. So when the day came that I needed to leave for a week to YL camp, he jumped at the opportunity to stop by and feed her and cuddle with her while I was gone. OK, he was a keeper. He didn't mind sitting on my couch and leaving covered in hair. To love me was to love my cat. This is something I think a cat lady would say but in all honesty, I knew how to crochet and I had a cat...all I was missing was a rocking chair...I was a cat lady.

Then we (Misty and I) moved in with Ali and Ty for a few months before Bobby and I got married. This was an interesting test for Misty but days spent under the bed hiding from whatever and nights skiddishly sneaking around their unknown house. Eventually, and I feel especially, because of the love and attention both Ali and Ty gave the Misters, she (kinda) came out of her shell. Though she rarely left my bedroom, she'd at least be out from under the bed. My favorite times with her there were when Salem, tried as she might, wanted to love on her and Misty just wouldn't take it. Also were the run-ins with Tawsha their 3 legged kitty...I still smile when thinking about the day I came home to find one single Tri-pod claw stuck in Misty's ear.

Moving in with Bobby after our big day was pretty easy for her. She cuddled with him like she cuddled with me so many times...kinda made me jealous! But we were a happy family.

About 6 months later though, my slightly-overweight-kitty-is-an-understatement started losing weight at a rapid pace. She stopped eating and so I thought maybe her teeth were going bad (a thought that came shortly after Marissa's kitty lost all but two front teeth!). The vet found no reasons for her problem though. So next was a search for food she WOULD eat. Well, I found some but the downside was, she'd often upchuck it. But Bobby and I were persistent in dealing with the upchuck...we loved her and just kept trying things. Then she decided to add lovely smelling fluid bowels to the mix...I knew this was not good. So about another 6 months from the last vet visit and 3 days before my 30th birthday, I took her to the vet once again to see if there's any options. Unfortunately, as I explained in the post before this, there's not much you can do for a 15 year old cat. I knew in my heart of hearts what had to be done but how do you voluntarily say adios to your friend that's been by your side for so many years? She's peed on my cheer uniforms, on my sister's now ex-husbands clothes (serves him right) but how could I scoop her up and hand her over to strangers to end her long, comfy life unnaturally? I couldn't bear to watch the slow deterioration any longer. I just couldn't do it. I loved her, yes, but it hurt so much to know that she was wasting away and I was helpless.

So after my birthday, Thanksgiving and a few more precious days, I had made up my mind that it was best for her. The vet told me her quality of life would never get better and that euthanasia would be the best, humane option. Earlier this week, Bobby and I were at odds with this decision which made it even harder and also caused a little guilt (which I still feel...intensely). But yesterday, after seeing her frail body walking around and finding multiple stinky bowel movements in various places, I solidified my decision and told Bobby I was done watching my buddy waste away.

After Bobby got home from work we loved on Misty for a few minutes, of course I cried, and finally scooped her up to put her in the travel crate. She didn't want to go and ended up clawing my wrist in the meantime...can't blame her.

Upon arrival to the vet (cried the whole way there, petting Misty through the crate holes) Bobby had to speak for me...nothing was coming out except sniffles and tears. I'm thankful for him for being so strong for me. Misty seemed calm, sitting there waiting...which made me feel maybe a spec better. The vet and her assistant took the three of us into a room, explained the different options (cremation and what-not) and ways to go about the 'process'. I chose for them to give her a sedative that would make her sort of 'asleep' and relaxed...that way we could take our time in the office saying goodbyes before they took her away from us and to the back to be put to sleep. She was so skinny that they had a hard time finding muscle to inject the sedative...sad. But within minutes she was limp in my arms but still breathing, it was strange...we pet her, Bobby with his arm around me...I kissed her and told her I loved her...I hope she heard me and felt it. When I couldn't bear to look at her limp body any longer, we asked the vet to come and take her away. She carried her like a baby out and to the back of the office. Bobby and I left and immediately, I went into hyperventilation mode...couldn't even get into our car.

I wanted to go screaming back into the clinic...I wanted to say "no! stay with me forever!" but alas, life is like that. We can't just keep someone or something around for our whole life...it doesn't work that way. So from here on out, nothing but good memories flood my mind...which usually makes me cry all over again. For instance, I see the lack of a litter box in my bathroom and I cry while on the pot! Why? Because there were many days when she'd actually follow me in the bathroom and pee at the same time I would!

I went to bed last night wondering how a furry little bug like Misters could make such a huge hole in my heart...then I remembered why this morning when I woke...yearning for her to jump on my bed to say good morning. She was my buddy...for 15 years...and now all I have left are wonderful memories, pictures and a tiny scratch on my wrist that I secretly hope never fades.

"Tis better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all."
~Shakespeare