My dearest Scruffy,
You entered our hearts the fall of 1991. A small kitten hiding in the garage of a vacant home, the adult cats had you cornered. Frightened and cold, my mom picked you up and brought you in. I fell in love with you instantly. I begged for several weeks for my parents to let me keep you and finally around Christmas they consented. You were my Christmas Kitty.
Over the last 17 years, you have been my faithful companion. You were there for me and brought me joy throughout all the troublesome years. You even trusted Chrissy in the end. It delighted her to no end to be permitted to pet you.
Last year when you were diagnosed with thyroid disease, I was relieved it could be handled. The vet never told me this was just the tip of the iceberg. A year later you were diagnosed with CRF and asthma. The vet told us that the thyroid covers the CRF until the meds take effect. Then you see what has been lying underneath. You lasted only 6 weeks from this diagnosis. I wonder if we had known sooner, if there was something we could have done better. We did what we could this last six weeks.
Last Friday, I thought it was over. I sped to the vet and once you were in oxygen you rallied. I was excited to think you would have more time with us. On Saturday, they called and warned things were bad. You looked so lost in the oxygen tank. Sally took you out of the tank and let me hold you. My heart broke when all you could do was lean on my chest and not look up. I thought it was our last, I guess it was. You perked up so much after visiting with us. When Sally took you back to the oxygen tank you looked at me like take me home mommy. I thought I was going to take you home. Darling they told us we could bring you home Sunday, after they weaned you off the oxygen. I was so excited! More time with my baby. A blessed gift from God. But it wasn’t to happen. The call I was dreading came in. Scuffy took a turn for the worse, you should come in to see him one more time.
On Sunday, we visited you at the Oxygen tank. You wouldn’t move until I called your name. I saw your sweet ears twitch at the sound of my voice. The doc told us it was time, you could not spend the rest of your life in O2, you could not be weaned off. I waited for you in the room, you could barely breathe yet you cried to me as if you thought I had left you forever and were glad to see me. I wanted to pick you up and hold you. But your lungs could not pull in the air anymore. The doctor did his deed before I could finish saying goodbye. I feel like I betrayed you, I am sorry. I really wanted you to die in the comfort of your home. I wish I could have held you. You passed away about 12 noon. This is the hardest thing I ever had to do – letting go of you.
I look at your spot on the bed and cry. I had to put whoa butterfly in a box because I couldn’t bear to look at it. I hope you are in a heavenly place, happy and free. I imagine you chasing butterflies in a never ending field of warm green grass. Playing with Princess, Clyde, and Roseanne. I hope that when my time comes that we will be reunited and spend our eternity with our God the Creator.
In unending love,
| Tiffany |