I remember the day we went to pick up Katie. Our first sight of her was her crawling all over her owner in the car, that little tail sticking straight out. We took possession of her, and drove home with her in my wife’s lap. It was a warm, drizzly early July afternoon, and she soon fell asleep. That was the beginning of a wonderful life together, a life of love, mischievousness, and laughter. Katie was our first pet as a couple, and my wife’s first pet ever. She never ceased to keep us amazed and delighted with her antics. Although she would willingly cuddle with me, she was definitely her mommy’s girl. When she was two years old, we adopted another kitten that had been dropped near a family member’s house. I was hesitant to take on another cat, but when I saw Smokey, it was love at first sight. He was almost Katie’s twin, and the two of them quickly became best friends. For ten years, they frolicked and followed each other around. They delighted us and our growing children.
On October 7, 2004, we lost our beloved Smokey due to sudden heart failure. Katie mourned for him for weeks, looking behind and under furniture, behind doors, all the while crying piteously. Eventually she adjusted, and we adopted other lost cats, but Katie never developed the relationship with them that she had with Smokey. I think we somehow were in denial that she was getting old, until we took her to the vet last spring for what we thought was a routine visit. Katie was suffering from CRF and hyperthyroidism, and was very sick. We were offered the option of special medical treatment, and we decided to try. For a few months, the treatments worked, and Katie really seemed to bounce back, gaining weight and her appetite stabilizing. But the recovery was not to be a sustained one.
Thursday, July 19, 2012, we made the agonizing decision to release Katie to join Smokey in eternal rest. The medical treatments she was getting were no longer helping. I’d like to think her final afternoon with us was a gift from God, because she seemed to be free from any discomfort, ate a light meal, and snuggled up with each of us in turn. She seemed to be at peace, and it was like she was saying goodbye to us. We knelt by her and stroked her and talked to her and told her we loved her as the sedative took effect. She was looking right at both of us when she fell asleep. The final shot was quick, and then she was gone. Her final ride home from the vet was in my lap as my wife drove. It was a warm, drizzly July afternoon, and she was coming home for the last time. We buried her beside her beloved little brother. The agony I am feeling this morning is beyond description. We have other furry babies that need our love, but Katie was so special, and 20 years of love are now just memories.
We will never forget you, Katie, and there will always be a gaping hole in our hearts. I want to believe you and Smokey are enjoying a Grand Reunion now, and
that some day we will join you.
With all our love,
| Katie |
| 19, July 2012 |
| Tony & Chris Turley |