Goodbye Sweet Friend

Thea was our sweet kitty.  I'll never forget the day when she and her brother, Thor, crawled into our backyard.  They were the tiniest, most adorable kittens, their eyes barely open.  We fed them from a bottle, waking up throughout the night to make sure they were getting enough to eat.  They were so fuzzy, cute and irresistible.  There was never any discussion about whether we would keep them.  It was a forgone conclusion.  Thor was only with us for a little while, but Thea became a huge part of our lives and our family.  Even after we added children, she continued to love us and adapt to our changing lives.  Even after we left her for a whole year to move to Georgia, she came back to us, she quickly adapted back into our family.  She quietly loved our family and our children, despite the noise and torture they subjected her to.  She was the perfect kids cat, never offering to bite them, even when they would pick her up or use her as a pillow.  We loved our kitty very much.  She was the first thing Maura looked for every morning and a constant source of entertainment throughout the day.   I took for granted that she would always be part of our lives.  She was diagnosed with cancer last summer, a fibrosarcoma in her muscle high up on her thigh.  Surgery wasn't really an option, radiation was crazy expensive, and we thought she would live on for a long time despite her cancer.  She managed to live on for an additional seven months past her diagnosis, months filled with treats, pats, and love.  When she did get sick, she did so very suddenly and there was very little we were able to do for her.  I did take some photos of her last few days, but I want to remember her as the sweet, vibrant, loving kitty that you see in the photo below from last August.

On Friday, January 25th, it became apparent to me that Thea was not feeling at all well.  She was very weak and very lethargic.  Of course, it was after hours, so I could not take her to a veterinarian.  The next morning, though, we made an appointment for her.  I was terrified that the vet would recommend that we put her to sleep that morning.  We hadn't ever discussed with the children that Thea had been diagnosed with cancer.   We had a quick discussion with the kids about how the kitty was very sick and that she might not come home from the vet's office.  There were many tears and much sadness as I left to take her to the doctor.  I had very little confidence that she would be coming home.  I took these photos just before I left to remember her sweet face.

I went to the vet, embarrassed myself for breaking down in front of her, and was momentarily encouraged by her willingness to treat Thea.  We went home with some antibiotics and steroids and I did my best to medicate, and hydrate my kitty throughout the day and night.  I forced liquid down her throat, hoping upon hope that I could keep her hydrated long enough to let the steroids take effect.  Unfortunately it just wasn't enough.  I could tell that her organs were starting to shut down, and she didn't have long to live, so we held her on our laps, petting her until she passed from this life.  It was a truly traumatic moment.  I have never seen that level of anguish in my children.  They were truly devastated.  I would have done just about anything to take that sadness away from them.  All I could offer them was the comfort of my arms.  I held Tristan for at least a half hour while he sobbed out his sadness at the loss of his friend.  It was utterly heartbreaking.  We took some time, after they calmed down to create some special cards to eulogize our friend.

My sweet husband was good enough to head straight out to my parent's house to dig a hole for Thea.  We didn't want to bury her in our backyard because we knew we'd probably be moving from our house in the next few months and didn't want the kids to have to worry about leaving their kitty behind.  We had a quick funeral service in the drizzling rain and the kids all took a moment to say something about Thea.  It didn't seem like enough to show our love for her, but I think we'll work on a tombstone to put up when the weather warms up.

Bennett has missed his kitty very much.  At least once a day, he looks at me and says, "My kitty died."   I say, "Yes Baby, she did."  He always asks, "We get another kitty?"  He did love his kitty.  He loved to pet her, and pick her up and squish her!

Goodbye Thea!  We love you!

I am surprised by how much I miss my kitty.  Yes, I loved her, but I've been entrenched in the business and busyness of child rearing for the past seven years and my kitty had taken a backseat in my affection.  I find myself thinking about Thea many times throughout the day, missing her presence beside me on the couch in the evenings.  Even missing her running out of the door when I open it!  Goodbye, my friend.  We miss you so much.  Thank you for your unconditional love.  You were a wonderful cat and we will never stop missing you.