Kitty-Cat passed away at about 3:30pm. I couldn't get him to the Humane Society in time. (I had a napping baby and a kid at school still.) He didn't even want to drink the milk from the little dropper. In his final moments, I would rub his belly (with the towel, of course - Germs, you know) and he would open his mouth real wide, like he was trying to get another precious "Meow".
I spoke with at least a half dozen animal professionals today, from animal clinics to animal control to humane societies. I believe I waited too long. I had planned to go to the humane society and have them care for Kitty-Cat - if I had found a sitter or until baby woke up and kid got home from school. At about 2:30, I called the Humane Society to see if they knew what death looks like in a cat - if a jaw reflex was normal postmortem or not. (Crazy me.) But they said if I brought him and he was sick, they couldn't care for him with no vet on the premises. I cried to Humane Society Sandy over the phone. She tried to ease my pain and regret.
All the should-haves came to mind. I should have taken him to the vet right away or to the humane society before the baby's nap. I should have let Papa Paul "put him to rest" at his farm so Kitty-Cat didn't have to suffer so much in his final moments. I should have fed him with a dropper earlier.
I am sorry Kitty-Cat. So sorry. Please forgive me.
Grant and I remembered the happy moments we had with him. From chasing him around the front yard yesterday to remembering him scurry out of the garage last night. But our fondest memory will be of finding you cuddled up on our front porch this morning. That was the moment I fell in love with you, Kitty-Cat.
We will never forget you, precious Kitty-Cat.
1 comment:
UMMMMMMM, yeah. It's a cat. They're only good for scaring mice away and comforting 50 year old divorced women(if you know what I mean). Although, sometimes I wish I could take a bath just by licking myself. Mmmm all that salty goodness.
Post a Comment