- Joined
- Apr 30, 2018
- Messages
- 14
- Purraise
- 50
My best friend, baby, and sibling passed away in my arms yesterday. I am so heartbroken. In a different thread it was suggested I tell her story here, and I think it might be healing for me to do so, as her story is an incredible one.
A little background - I am an only child. I was nuts about animals basically from birth. We had two lovely beautiful dogs my parents had gotten before I was born, and I loved (and still do love) them dearly. But I loved cats. My mom hated cats (at the time). A bad experience she’s had as a child had soured her on all felines and she had no desire to have one in her house. Around the time I turned three, I began begging for, as I called them, a “kee cat”, which was my way of saying kitty cat. So my parents bought me cat stuffed animals. It didn’t work- I wanted a REAL one. After months and months of working on my parents, they relented. I wanted a “”Garfield” cat, an orange tabby. So my parents began hunting for one.
Apparently, orange tabbies are hard to find, but my mom finally tracked one down. It was near her workplace, so she decided she would go look at the cat on her lunch break. I will never forget the phone call I received- my Nana was babysitting me at home that day, and we were outside eating ice cream. The phone rang, and it was Mama. She told me that if I was good and took my afternoon nap, when I woke up, my kitty would home so I could meet them. I was ecstatic!
Mama headed over to the animal shelter, and one of the workers took her back to meet the cat. The worker opened the cage to pick up the cat, and as she did so, it screamed, hissed, and tore her arms to shreds with its claws. Dangling the furious cat out in front of her, she asked my mom, “Would you like to hold him?”. My mom stared at the lady like she had three eyes. “I can’t take that home to my three year old!”, she exclaimed.
At that very moment, my Mama felt a tap, tap, tap on her elbow. As she turned to see who was touching her, she saw a tiny white paw sticking out from a cage right next to her, a cage she had never noticed. The worker told her that the paw belonged to a little kitten who had just been weaned and had become available for adoption that very day. The worker shared the kitten’s story, and even my Mama was moved.
This little gal had been found, only a few days old, in the middle of a road. Nobody knew how she’d gotten there, as there were no littermates, no mother, no nothing. Her eyes were still closed, and she was near death. A kind Samaritan on his way to work saw her and swerved, straddling the tiny baby between the wheels of his car. He retrieved her from under his car, and brought her in to the shelter. Most shelter workers did not think she’d survive long, and it was kinder to let nature take its course. But someone saw her fighting spirit and decided to give her a chance. She was so small, she couldn’t nurse from a kitten bottle. Instead, the workers used an eye dropper to feed her formula around the clock. Against all odds, she had not just survived, but thrived, and now she was ready for a loving home.
Well, my mom has a soft spot in her heart for the underdog, or undercat as it were. The kitten was a girl, a perfect match for her little girl at home, and was sweet as could be, so I wouldn’t get ripped to shreds. The worker handed her to my mom to hold, and she found herself saying yes.
The shelter was out of the cardboard pet carrier, so they tucked the kitten into a plain cardboard box for her ride home and gently closed the flaps on the top. My Mama sat the kitten in the passenger seat and began to drive. Not long after they hit the road, the flaps on the box popped up and there was the kitten! She made her way over to my Mom and, using her tiny claws, climbed her way up my Mama’s shirt, purring all the way. My Mom picked her up by the scruff and peeled her off, placing her back in the box. Again, the kitten popped out and trekked up my Mom’s shirt. She put her back again. The third time she did it, my Mama figured resistance was futile and let the kitten cling to her shirt the rest of the drive home.
I had never been so excited to wake up from my nap! Nana said the kitten was indeed there, and was in the laundry room. I raced there to catch a peek at my new friend. My mom had placed her in one of our dog’s carriers to keep her contained until she could go get a litter box and other kitten essentials on her way home from work that evening. I peered into the box, and it was love at first sight. Honestly, that day is one for my first memories I can recall in vivid detail. A tiny grey and white kitten sat in the back of the pink carrier, just staring at me. Nana had just entered the laundry room and was saying, “Don’t take the cat out yet, we don’t even have a litter box....” She looked down, and the kitten was already in my arms.
Over the next few days I tried to come up with the perfect name for her. At first I called her Bananas- I have no clue why I did, but it just didn’t fit. A few days after we got her, she was cuddling with me while watching TV. I saw a Snuggle fabric softener ad. The name was cute, as was the cuddly teddy bear. The little kitten certainly loved to snuggle, and she always smelled like laundry detergent and fabric softener because she would curl up in our clothes and towels when they were fresh out of the dryer. So that day, her name became Snuggles. It was a perfect fit.
The two of us were inseparable. I had no siblings, so I played with Snuggles, and she was happy to oblige. Being dressed in doll clothes and riding in my toy stroller never phased her. She enjoyed climbing in my big dollhouse and watching the goings on while I played with my dolls. She loved hiding in my massive pile of stuffed animals and holding perfectly still so you couldn’t tell if she was a toy or real.
The older we grew, the more important our relationship became. On September 11th, I held her tightly as I tried to understand what was happening in the world. When my father deployed to Iraq when I was 9, she began sleeping in the bed with me, right on my pillow. I would cry myself to sleep some nights out of worry for my Daddy half a world away, and my tears soaked her beautiful silky fur. When I began dealing with anxiety, she was one of the few who could calm me down, simply with the sound of her purr.
We became inseparable, and with each passing year, our relationship deepened. Boy problems, college, internships- all my frustrations and worries she listened to, never judging, never interrupting, only loving.
It was a blessing that she was extremely healthy right up until the last. We never knew her actual birthday, so we picked March 3rd as the day to celebrate. This year, we had a party with cake and powdered sugar doughnuts (her favorite snack) to celebrate her turning 20. She was always fiercely independent and the queen, ruling over our other cats, only doing things on her own terms. She demanded the only the best, to be served first, and to be acknowledged first when someone entered the room. She was regal until her last breath. Old age caught up with her, and her organs began shutting down. She wasn’t in pain, and was more comfortable in her own environment because she developed cataracts in her final years that severely reduced her vision. Our aim was to give her the best possible, most dignified final days we could, surrounded with her family and her feline subjects (whom she loved dearly and in her heart considered them sisters). She took her last breath of her own accord, in my arms, on May 6th, 2018, at 7:35 am. It was a beautiful Sunday morning- the sun was shining in the window and you could hear the birds chirping outside. A perfect morning for a perfect baby.
My heart is broken in a million pieces and I am so lost without her, as are my other cats. She was the matriarch of their small “pride”. I took her yesterday to be cremated, which was incredibly hard. It is what she would have wanted because in life she always wanted to be as near to me as possible. I think it gives both of us peace that her physical remains will be near me. She also loved being beautiful, constantly grooming herself and posing for every photo. She took so much pride in her physical appearance. As such, I think she would be honored that some of her remains are being cast into a gorgeous sterling silver heart that I can wear near my heart and keep a piece of her with me. I think I will feel a bit better when she is returned and I can pick her up to bring her home. The house feels so empty for all of us without her presence now. If you have read all of this, thank you so much for taking the time to read her story. Also, if you have ever done anything to rescue an abandoned or stray cat, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, as I am sure Snuggles would too. Because of the kindness of some stranger I will likely never know, my life has been forever changed and Snuggles survived to live 20 beautiful meaningful years. Never underestimate the smallest act of kindness, as you never know how much it will mean to someone and how it will change their life.
Our first photo, May 11, 1998, and our final one, taken May 5, 2018. My favorite hello and my hardest goodbye.
“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
-Winnie the Pooh
A little background - I am an only child. I was nuts about animals basically from birth. We had two lovely beautiful dogs my parents had gotten before I was born, and I loved (and still do love) them dearly. But I loved cats. My mom hated cats (at the time). A bad experience she’s had as a child had soured her on all felines and she had no desire to have one in her house. Around the time I turned three, I began begging for, as I called them, a “kee cat”, which was my way of saying kitty cat. So my parents bought me cat stuffed animals. It didn’t work- I wanted a REAL one. After months and months of working on my parents, they relented. I wanted a “”Garfield” cat, an orange tabby. So my parents began hunting for one.
Apparently, orange tabbies are hard to find, but my mom finally tracked one down. It was near her workplace, so she decided she would go look at the cat on her lunch break. I will never forget the phone call I received- my Nana was babysitting me at home that day, and we were outside eating ice cream. The phone rang, and it was Mama. She told me that if I was good and took my afternoon nap, when I woke up, my kitty would home so I could meet them. I was ecstatic!
Mama headed over to the animal shelter, and one of the workers took her back to meet the cat. The worker opened the cage to pick up the cat, and as she did so, it screamed, hissed, and tore her arms to shreds with its claws. Dangling the furious cat out in front of her, she asked my mom, “Would you like to hold him?”. My mom stared at the lady like she had three eyes. “I can’t take that home to my three year old!”, she exclaimed.
At that very moment, my Mama felt a tap, tap, tap on her elbow. As she turned to see who was touching her, she saw a tiny white paw sticking out from a cage right next to her, a cage she had never noticed. The worker told her that the paw belonged to a little kitten who had just been weaned and had become available for adoption that very day. The worker shared the kitten’s story, and even my Mama was moved.
This little gal had been found, only a few days old, in the middle of a road. Nobody knew how she’d gotten there, as there were no littermates, no mother, no nothing. Her eyes were still closed, and she was near death. A kind Samaritan on his way to work saw her and swerved, straddling the tiny baby between the wheels of his car. He retrieved her from under his car, and brought her in to the shelter. Most shelter workers did not think she’d survive long, and it was kinder to let nature take its course. But someone saw her fighting spirit and decided to give her a chance. She was so small, she couldn’t nurse from a kitten bottle. Instead, the workers used an eye dropper to feed her formula around the clock. Against all odds, she had not just survived, but thrived, and now she was ready for a loving home.
Well, my mom has a soft spot in her heart for the underdog, or undercat as it were. The kitten was a girl, a perfect match for her little girl at home, and was sweet as could be, so I wouldn’t get ripped to shreds. The worker handed her to my mom to hold, and she found herself saying yes.
The shelter was out of the cardboard pet carrier, so they tucked the kitten into a plain cardboard box for her ride home and gently closed the flaps on the top. My Mama sat the kitten in the passenger seat and began to drive. Not long after they hit the road, the flaps on the box popped up and there was the kitten! She made her way over to my Mom and, using her tiny claws, climbed her way up my Mama’s shirt, purring all the way. My Mom picked her up by the scruff and peeled her off, placing her back in the box. Again, the kitten popped out and trekked up my Mom’s shirt. She put her back again. The third time she did it, my Mama figured resistance was futile and let the kitten cling to her shirt the rest of the drive home.
I had never been so excited to wake up from my nap! Nana said the kitten was indeed there, and was in the laundry room. I raced there to catch a peek at my new friend. My mom had placed her in one of our dog’s carriers to keep her contained until she could go get a litter box and other kitten essentials on her way home from work that evening. I peered into the box, and it was love at first sight. Honestly, that day is one for my first memories I can recall in vivid detail. A tiny grey and white kitten sat in the back of the pink carrier, just staring at me. Nana had just entered the laundry room and was saying, “Don’t take the cat out yet, we don’t even have a litter box....” She looked down, and the kitten was already in my arms.
Over the next few days I tried to come up with the perfect name for her. At first I called her Bananas- I have no clue why I did, but it just didn’t fit. A few days after we got her, she was cuddling with me while watching TV. I saw a Snuggle fabric softener ad. The name was cute, as was the cuddly teddy bear. The little kitten certainly loved to snuggle, and she always smelled like laundry detergent and fabric softener because she would curl up in our clothes and towels when they were fresh out of the dryer. So that day, her name became Snuggles. It was a perfect fit.
The two of us were inseparable. I had no siblings, so I played with Snuggles, and she was happy to oblige. Being dressed in doll clothes and riding in my toy stroller never phased her. She enjoyed climbing in my big dollhouse and watching the goings on while I played with my dolls. She loved hiding in my massive pile of stuffed animals and holding perfectly still so you couldn’t tell if she was a toy or real.
The older we grew, the more important our relationship became. On September 11th, I held her tightly as I tried to understand what was happening in the world. When my father deployed to Iraq when I was 9, she began sleeping in the bed with me, right on my pillow. I would cry myself to sleep some nights out of worry for my Daddy half a world away, and my tears soaked her beautiful silky fur. When I began dealing with anxiety, she was one of the few who could calm me down, simply with the sound of her purr.
We became inseparable, and with each passing year, our relationship deepened. Boy problems, college, internships- all my frustrations and worries she listened to, never judging, never interrupting, only loving.
It was a blessing that she was extremely healthy right up until the last. We never knew her actual birthday, so we picked March 3rd as the day to celebrate. This year, we had a party with cake and powdered sugar doughnuts (her favorite snack) to celebrate her turning 20. She was always fiercely independent and the queen, ruling over our other cats, only doing things on her own terms. She demanded the only the best, to be served first, and to be acknowledged first when someone entered the room. She was regal until her last breath. Old age caught up with her, and her organs began shutting down. She wasn’t in pain, and was more comfortable in her own environment because she developed cataracts in her final years that severely reduced her vision. Our aim was to give her the best possible, most dignified final days we could, surrounded with her family and her feline subjects (whom she loved dearly and in her heart considered them sisters). She took her last breath of her own accord, in my arms, on May 6th, 2018, at 7:35 am. It was a beautiful Sunday morning- the sun was shining in the window and you could hear the birds chirping outside. A perfect morning for a perfect baby.
My heart is broken in a million pieces and I am so lost without her, as are my other cats. She was the matriarch of their small “pride”. I took her yesterday to be cremated, which was incredibly hard. It is what she would have wanted because in life she always wanted to be as near to me as possible. I think it gives both of us peace that her physical remains will be near me. She also loved being beautiful, constantly grooming herself and posing for every photo. She took so much pride in her physical appearance. As such, I think she would be honored that some of her remains are being cast into a gorgeous sterling silver heart that I can wear near my heart and keep a piece of her with me. I think I will feel a bit better when she is returned and I can pick her up to bring her home. The house feels so empty for all of us without her presence now. If you have read all of this, thank you so much for taking the time to read her story. Also, if you have ever done anything to rescue an abandoned or stray cat, I thank you from the bottom of my heart, as I am sure Snuggles would too. Because of the kindness of some stranger I will likely never know, my life has been forever changed and Snuggles survived to live 20 beautiful meaningful years. Never underestimate the smallest act of kindness, as you never know how much it will mean to someone and how it will change their life.
Our first photo, May 11, 1998, and our final one, taken May 5, 2018. My favorite hello and my hardest goodbye.
“How lucky am I to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard.”
-Winnie the Pooh