- Joined
- Jul 12, 2018
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My Fellow Cat Lovers,
I am really struggling today, and I need to air this out to people who understand what I am going through. This past Saturday night, I accidentally killed the sweetest and most loving kitty I've ever had, and I am so depressed I can hardly function today. The kittens name was Pinky, because her nose was such a bright pink color, and I thought the name matched her loving and sweet personality. Six weeks ago today, Pinky's mom (Baby) ran into my house in obvious distress, and to my utter astonishment she started doing into labor right by my front door. Baby is one of the strays that I have been taking care of, and I have been able to spay/neuter all of them but Baby and one other female.
After 5 hours of labor, Baby delivered two beautiful babies, one boy and one girl. After about three weeks old, their little personalities was beginning to show, and I was head over heals in love with them both, but it was Pinky who I was drawn to the most. Have you ever been around a cat or kitten and just knew this cat or kitten was like your animal soul mate? That was the way it was with Pinky, and I couldn't wait to watch this little baby grow up. Unlike most cats, she loved being held and cuddled, and she would climb up into my arms, then work her way all the way up to right in front of my face, and she would literally rub her little face all over my cheeks and rub her paws on my chin. As you can guess, she had me wrapped around her little paw.
This past Saturday, my husband and I needed to run to Walmart to do some shopping, and I was in a big rush trying to get out the door before my husband started fussing about how long it was taking me to get ready. In my haste, I forgot to put Pinky and Oreo (her brother) in their pen, because I always lock the babies up so they cant get into anything bad while I'm gone. Three hours later I have my hands full of groceries and as I step into my front door, I see Pinky laying on the floor to my right and I automatically know something's wrong just by looking at her stiff little body. I drop everything in my hands and scream for my husband who runs in trying to figure out what's going on, but I'm already crying so bad I cant tell him what's wrong so I point to her. He goes to Pinky and touches her and his face tells me all I needed to know... she was dead. I am hysterical at this point, and I honestly dont think I have ever cried that hard before.
After my husband does an examination of her body, we find out she had choked on piece of plastic from a Belk's bag. So yes, I killed Pinky as surely as if I had put that piece of plastic in her throat myself. Why in the hell didnt I lock her up in her the SAFETY of her pen before I left? Was going to freaking Walmart that important to me? Just the thought of what her last moments must have been like eats at my mind and wont go away.
Now, I'm sitting in my truck in the parking lot of my college needing to go to class but I look like a clown with mascara running all down my face so I cant do that. I really dont have the motivation to do much of anything, because I realize that when I get home, Pinky wont be there to make me feel better or aggravate me when I'm trying to do my homework and that is like a punch in the gut. I have caused myself to miss out on what would have been such a great friendship. I dont even have a recent pic of her to remember her by....
Anyways, thanks for reading this rant of mine, and I just want to say to Pinky that I am so so sorry I didnt lock you up where you would be safe, and I hope your trip over the rainbow was beautiful and so very very colorful.... goodbye my sweet baby girl.
I am really struggling today, and I need to air this out to people who understand what I am going through. This past Saturday night, I accidentally killed the sweetest and most loving kitty I've ever had, and I am so depressed I can hardly function today. The kittens name was Pinky, because her nose was such a bright pink color, and I thought the name matched her loving and sweet personality. Six weeks ago today, Pinky's mom (Baby) ran into my house in obvious distress, and to my utter astonishment she started doing into labor right by my front door. Baby is one of the strays that I have been taking care of, and I have been able to spay/neuter all of them but Baby and one other female.
After 5 hours of labor, Baby delivered two beautiful babies, one boy and one girl. After about three weeks old, their little personalities was beginning to show, and I was head over heals in love with them both, but it was Pinky who I was drawn to the most. Have you ever been around a cat or kitten and just knew this cat or kitten was like your animal soul mate? That was the way it was with Pinky, and I couldn't wait to watch this little baby grow up. Unlike most cats, she loved being held and cuddled, and she would climb up into my arms, then work her way all the way up to right in front of my face, and she would literally rub her little face all over my cheeks and rub her paws on my chin. As you can guess, she had me wrapped around her little paw.
This past Saturday, my husband and I needed to run to Walmart to do some shopping, and I was in a big rush trying to get out the door before my husband started fussing about how long it was taking me to get ready. In my haste, I forgot to put Pinky and Oreo (her brother) in their pen, because I always lock the babies up so they cant get into anything bad while I'm gone. Three hours later I have my hands full of groceries and as I step into my front door, I see Pinky laying on the floor to my right and I automatically know something's wrong just by looking at her stiff little body. I drop everything in my hands and scream for my husband who runs in trying to figure out what's going on, but I'm already crying so bad I cant tell him what's wrong so I point to her. He goes to Pinky and touches her and his face tells me all I needed to know... she was dead. I am hysterical at this point, and I honestly dont think I have ever cried that hard before.
After my husband does an examination of her body, we find out she had choked on piece of plastic from a Belk's bag. So yes, I killed Pinky as surely as if I had put that piece of plastic in her throat myself. Why in the hell didnt I lock her up in her the SAFETY of her pen before I left? Was going to freaking Walmart that important to me? Just the thought of what her last moments must have been like eats at my mind and wont go away.
Now, I'm sitting in my truck in the parking lot of my college needing to go to class but I look like a clown with mascara running all down my face so I cant do that. I really dont have the motivation to do much of anything, because I realize that when I get home, Pinky wont be there to make me feel better or aggravate me when I'm trying to do my homework and that is like a punch in the gut. I have caused myself to miss out on what would have been such a great friendship. I dont even have a recent pic of her to remember her by....
Anyways, thanks for reading this rant of mine, and I just want to say to Pinky that I am so so sorry I didnt lock you up where you would be safe, and I hope your trip over the rainbow was beautiful and so very very colorful.... goodbye my sweet baby girl.