A Farewell

This week we made the heart-wrenching decision to say good-bye to our cat Spooky.

She was old. She was deaf. She was losing weight. And then she stopped being able to jump on the bed. Or climb stairs. (Two of her favorite activities.) She couldn't get around well and finally stopped getting around at all, choosing to remain curled up on a blanket in our living room. She stopped eating, and finally drinking. And eventually she looked so miserable that the thought of her at peace was actually easier than the thought of what we'd have to do to get her there.

But it was hard. Like, crying in the car driving through the rain hard. I was actually surprised at how much it affected me, given that I spent more time complaining about Spooky and avoiding her talons than I did enjoying her (prickly) company. It was one of those really sucky grown-up moments that I'd rather not experience again.

Yesterday we received a sympathy card in the mail from the vet's office. A kind gesture. But then I read the six separate hand-written notes inside and teared up all over again. They mentioned her by name. They called her our "good girl," "wonderful cat" and "beautiful" and (I'm crying again... geez...) thanked us for the love and care we gave her.

You know, for a crazy cat that never particularly liked me or most people in general, she was still our cat. Matt's from kittenhood. She made the long move to Texas and back. In fact, Texas might have been her glory days. She was still fiesty, loved laying on the couch looking out the window at the traffic below, roamed the apartment with her "boyfriend" in tow. She put up with our shack in Midtown, the one with the flea infestation that put her in the emergency animal hospital for a blood transfusion at two in the morning. I like to think we bonded during the long cold months of my third trimester when we spent many a snuggly hour in the recliner watching West Wing reruns. It was nice always having someone to come home to, someone to curl up in bed with when Matt was away, even if she made sure to stay down by my feet where I couldn't actually touch her.

My feet are a little colder tonight.

Sweet kitty, we'll miss you.