I’ll start from the beginning of Bruiser’s story.
He was born in March, before I had come to Nebraska on the 10th of June. He was a healthy kitten. Later, also before I arrived,
he had a slight cold.
When I got to Nebraska, I was with the fact that I’d be returning home. Yet when a month had past, my parents talked me into staying with my grandmother.(We eleven year-olds are so gullible, aren’t we?)
Anyhoo, I got to pick out two kittens for my stay. I picked a cat, I think she was a tortoise shell-tabby mix, and I picked a pure black kitten who loved to nuggle snuggle, (I have a history of talking and even TYPING babyishly around Bruiser.) with me. The mix was named Chloe, and the black cat was named Bruiser(Don’t ask; I don’t have a clue why).
So it became a routine: feed the cats in the morning, go to school, come home, homework, watch TV with Bruise, feed the cats, take a shower, go to bed, and then repeat it all the next day.
Bruiser also always gave me laughs. He, always on week-ends, would go to bed with me. My head would be on the pillow when I fell asleep. In the morning, I’d either be sguished against the wall or be on the ground, and he’d be square in the middle of my pillow.
I soon got rid of his cold by putting him on medicine for a week. Then he was okay. Not once did I suspect he’d get a tumor in his kidney.
Not ever.
There was no doubt that the bond betwwen Bruise and I was strong. Almost every day we’d be together and nuggle (You know whatI mean). He’d give me kitty head-buts, get fur up my nose.
I’d kiss his head and listened to him purr; we were just two very inseparable buds.
Then he became thin, frail, and weak. I didn’t know what to do, and ended up taking him to the vet. You should’ve seen how hard the vet squeezed Bruiser’s belly! I just couldn’t handle it! I left the room so I couldn’t see. I just felt like having an emotional break-down! Then I scorned myself, saying instead of leaving Bruise I should have told the vet “NO.” He gave us medication to “bring up his appetite.” But he had a tumor in his kidney; there were two lumps in his belly, it was so noticeable. He died a very peaceful death, no struggling. It hit me so hard, the pain was just unbearable. No more nuggling, no more laughs, and even when he was in his weak, frail state, he still comforted me;
he didn’t complain.
Now I understand the song “Cry Just a Little For Me” sang by a country singer. At first I questioned why, but then I understood. It’s wierd, but you have to experience it to understand it.
Good-bye, dear Bruiser. Wait for me, yet play Lucky, Ranger, your brother, and Cheetah. Know that I love you so much.
Love,
| Bruiser |
| Kaylin Zimmerman |