Kitty

We said good-bye to Kitty this morning. 17 years. It doesn't seem like she's really not here. It doesn't seem like she couldn't be here, because she always has been. I can still hear her nails tapping across the kitchen floor and want to turn and look for her. Her coat was always so soft. I can still feel her wet nose nudging to be pet. If you stopped, she put her paw out on your hand in efforts to keep you from moving away. It would be impossible to put into words what she has done for Thomas in helping him deal with the anxiety he experienced when he was younger. I don't think she ever stopped purring. Even in her last few hours, I was astonished to hear it. She wasn't like most cats. She had a personality that made you feel like you were dealing with a person, not an animal. There was a lot of understanding and wisdom behind those big green eyes. Cal and I would often comment that she acted more like a dog than a cat. Sweet, loving, and always looking for company. Not one time, no matter what they did to her, did she scratch or bite one of the kids when they got too rough. We used to fuss at her because she wouldn't even try to run away. When they were babies and cried, she would usually beat us to them. One time she was under Thomas' crib making so much noise I was afraid she was going to wake him up. When I got in there, I heard him gasp. You know how babies sometimes stop breathing? At the time, I remember thinking she sensed something wasn't right and was calling me. It was probably a normal baby thing, but she didn't like it.

I knew about two weeks ago that it was coming. She had started trying to go outside, and the fact that it was 2 degrees outside didn't seem to phase her. I specifically remember at least 4 times that she snuck out behind one of us and I had to snatch her up. In the back of my mind I knew what she was doing, but brushed it aside refusing to believe it. As long as she was back inside it didn't have to be true, right? To be honest, it also kind of made me mad. I didn't want her to go off and be by herself when it happened. In my head I was thinking, we've been together this long....do you really think we're going to let you be alone now? Cal is TDY....of course. I wouldn't doubt one bit that she waited for him to be gone, knowing it would make it easier for him. Now that I think about it, she started going outside about the same time he left. Yeah, she knew.

It is comforting to know that she had stayed in good health, and wasn't really ever in any discomfort until the last couple of days. Even throughout Saturday and Sunday, she was moving around some.......not her usual of course, but at least enough that I knew her discomfort wasn't unbearable. No, not unbearable, but enough to erase my denial......even though until then I was quite comfy with my state of denial, and didn't want to let it go. At one point on Saturday morning, the thought crossed my mind that being sick isn't such a big deal. She could get over a sickness. The little voice in my head said, "She's 17....it's not a sickness."

I was looking through pictures to post. Do you know how many pictures of one cat can be collected over 17 years??? You will find out. As soon as I can do it without the threat of my waterworks flooding and short-circuiting the keyboard.