I joined the CatSite forum a few months ago. Unfortunately, my first post will be a eulogy to my dear little Siamese that was my companion for almost 15 years. She had a good, healthy life, but her kidneys started failing in mid-December. By December 27, I had to make the terrible decision that it was better for her to leave me and not make her suffer further to keep me company.
Candy was my shadow. Whenever Iâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]d been gone, sheâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]d meet me at the door. Whatever I was doing, wherever I was at in the house, she was never far away. She was my lap warmer when I sat down to watch TV or otherwise relax. She sat with me as I attempted to work on the computer. At night, some part of my body (an arm - a leg) was her pillow. As I move around the house, I catch myself looking for her - wondering why sheâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s not where she always was.
My husbandâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s pug, Heidi, and Candy were not real close (after all, Candy was older - 8, when the playful puppy entered the picture), but I believe they came to an understanding that included some degree of affection. The 7 pound cat was certainly able to keep what turned into a 20 pound dog under control! Now the dog will start sniffing and walk around looking at the places Candy used to sit/lay. I even think the dog misses her.
Living on a farm, I was able to bury Candy in my back yard. I feel Iâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]m able to talk with her in the evening when I go out to feed the horses and my barn cats. One of my favorite barn cats is buried near her as well as a house cat I had many years ago - before her. Candy was special, though. I had her longer than any other cat. As healthy as she'd always been, I thought I'd have her at least another 2-3 years, so I sure wasn't ready for this.
I love you, Candy, and I miss you terribly. Rest in peace . . . until we meet again.
Candy was my shadow. Whenever Iâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]d been gone, sheâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]d meet me at the door. Whatever I was doing, wherever I was at in the house, she was never far away. She was my lap warmer when I sat down to watch TV or otherwise relax. She sat with me as I attempted to work on the computer. At night, some part of my body (an arm - a leg) was her pillow. As I move around the house, I catch myself looking for her - wondering why sheâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s not where she always was.
My husbandâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]s pug, Heidi, and Candy were not real close (after all, Candy was older - 8, when the playful puppy entered the picture), but I believe they came to an understanding that included some degree of affection. The 7 pound cat was certainly able to keep what turned into a 20 pound dog under control! Now the dog will start sniffing and walk around looking at the places Candy used to sit/lay. I even think the dog misses her.
Living on a farm, I was able to bury Candy in my back yard. I feel Iâ€[emoji]8482[/emoji]m able to talk with her in the evening when I go out to feed the horses and my barn cats. One of my favorite barn cats is buried near her as well as a house cat I had many years ago - before her. Candy was special, though. I had her longer than any other cat. As healthy as she'd always been, I thought I'd have her at least another 2-3 years, so I sure wasn't ready for this.
I love you, Candy, and I miss you terribly. Rest in peace . . . until we meet again.