My little B was born on Valentine’s day. This was fitting for the most affectionate and lovable kitty I have ever known. How I miss so much the way he would follow me room to room. He’d wait for me sit so that he may jump to my lap. And jump he did; I’d come home from work, and he’d jump from the floor to my arms.
His love was unconditional and so powerful.
It was one cold and wet day late in October. I was outside in my driveway when I heard a sudden chirp of car tires. I didn’t think much of it. My head for some reason turned to the end of my driveway where I could see a small figure crawling towards the house. We rarely let Little B out, for we new the road nearby could be dangerous. My worst nightmare had crept upon me. I walked towards the movement and there was my Little B barely moving and struggling to breathe. I whisked him up and brought him into the house… His internal injuries were too severe and he died in my arms.
I took a few days off from work and cried most of them. I feel guilty to this day. I loved my Little B, and miss him severely.
Before he had died, he had managed to get to our other female cat before she was spayed. She had six kittens. One of them was an orange tabby and looked exactly like my B. His son is doing well today and is named baby B!
All my earthly love,
|10, Oct 1997|