Goodbye Old Friend

Very nearly 14 years ago, my mama's grey tabby Lily was born...

We were just getting over the tragic passing of Sox, a very sweet boy who left us much too early, having been exposed as a baby to feline leukemia. Sox was fine, playing with my daughter and her friends at her sixth birthday party one month, and then the next barely able to move around the room.

And as I was still recovering from his loss, my friend's cat gave birth to a lovely litter of beautiful, healthy kittens. I was convinced that it was much too early for me to have a new cat. But my friend plied me with pictures, knowing how I do love my pets, of the most gorgeous kitten of the lot.

He saved that kitten for me. All the people who came to see his kittens, wanted this beautiful ball of grey and white fluff with eyes the color of jade. But he told them all no, this one is spoken for. Eventually all the kittens were adopted away to new homes, but this one remained.

And my mother and my daughter, said please please PLEASE can we have this beautiful baby kitten? And of course I relented.

Lily, you were a persnickety kitten right from the start. Although you loved to be held, you absolutely HATED having your ears touched, even accidentally, right from the start. You didn't want us to pick you up, but would instead sidle up to us and plop yourself down on our laps.

When you purred it was such a soft and tiny sound, but it made us all smile.

Now, old friend, it is clear that your time has come. You are a very old cat, and you've been patiently putting up with a failing thyroid and heart now for years. Your teeth are mostly gone, and it's hard for you to get around the house the way you used to.

I apologize, old friend, if we've kept you too long from moving along. It's just that we will miss you so terribly. The thought of not seeing you waiting for us in the laundry room doorway, not hearing you yell at us when your litter isn't spotless, was just too much to bear. So we hung on, hoping against hope that you would one day be well enough again, to topple all the little knick knacks off Grandma's antique desk, when you jumped down from the landing.

Tomorrow, I will take Lily to the Vet for the last time. I will hold her close, and gently stroke the top of her head, and tell her what a good brave cat she is, tell her that we all love her, and hold her even closer, as she takes her last breath.

Goodbye, my dear old friend. I hope you will rest in peace.