Mitsy'sMom

STOO, Thanks for your kind words. It really helped to write the letter to my dear Mitsy-cat. I was feeling so bad for putting her through so much a the end. Everyone we knew always said what a lucky cat she was because I adopted her as a stray. The truth is, I was the lucky one. She was always there for me. She was one of the most constant, and definitely the least critical, entities in my life. She knew all of my secrets. She was always glad to see me. She never held a grudge, even when I took her to the vet. It did not take much to make her happy, and purring. She chose to share her life with me and I was so lucky to have her in mine. Mitsy's been gone a week today. I miss her so much. My house is so empty without her. The hardest thing is to come home and not find her waiting for me. I'm haunted by the scenes of her death, of her with a big tumor and of burying her. I feel responsible in so many ways for what happened to her. I know that she would have forgiven me for everything, but I still wish I could have made it better for her at the end. I'm hoping that, in time, I'll remember all of the goods times we had (we had so many), instead of focusing on the end. I had a song that I used to sing to Mitsy...it's to the tune of "Edleweiss" from "The Sound of Music" and it goes as follows: Mitsy-cat, baby-kitty, Every morning she greets me. Small and furry, soft and purry, She looks happy to see me. Long whiskers and pointed ears, She loves to play (sleep) all day. I love my striped, Mitsy-cat. She's my kitty forever.... My sister's cat had kittens the day after Mitsy died. Mitsy was a large tabby - she was so beautiful. My sister's cat is a calico, and she had two calicos, and two orange & white kittens. They want me to have one when they're old enough. I can't imagine having another cat yet, but maybe by the time they're old enough to leave their momma, I'll be ready. Thanks again for reading my letter to Mitsy and for understanding how much I loved my special kitty-cat. Kay

Dear Mitsy, I am so sorry, my precious kitty-cat that I had to take you to the vet that one last time and have you put to sleep. Somehow, I knew the moment that I saw the bump on your shoulder the day after Thanksgiving that it was a bad thing. I just picked you up and held you so tight and you didn't understand why I was upset. Sure enough, we found out that it was a vaccine related fibro sarcoma - a very bad and aggressive tumour. A week later we tried to remove it and the operation was very hard on you. The first night was very tough, but I stayed on the floor with you and within a few days you were feeling better. I hoped and prayed that the tumour would not grow back, but just a few weeks later it was there again. The vet told me that another surgery would be even worse, they would have to remove your leg and some ribs with no guarantee that the tumour would not grow back. You were such an independant soul and not a good patient, so I made the decision not to put you through another, more invasive, operation. I hoped we'd have a few months, but the tumour grew so fast, we only had a few weeks. For a short time, you were okay, playing, cuddling and eating normally. But, in no time at all the tumour had gotten so big...you looked like Atlas with the whole world upon your shoulders. You couldn't jump anymore, you didn't play anymore and it was affecting your jaw somehow, making it hard for you to eat. I tried everything to get you to eat, I made tuna milkshakes and I brought home your favorite chicken. As long as I could get you to eat a little every day, you seemed like you felt better and were more animated. But, you still spent a lot of time in the closet, no longer able to curl up comfortably. As long as I was home, you would still cuddle and seemed to rest more comfortably. Finally, I decided that you were suffering, you had gotten so skinny (except for the nasty tumour) and you just trudged with your tail down and couldn't even climb into the litter box anymore. I decided to have you put to sleep. Mitsy-cat, I really tried to find a way to have it done here at your house, so you wouldn't have to go to the dreaded vet's office that one last time, but I couldn't find anyone to come to the house. They told me that I could stay with you and that they would only take you away for a short time to put in the IV. We took you in the car and you looked at me with your beautiful green eyes and you meowed (even your meow was different because of the tumour) and it broke my heart. When we got to the vet they took you away for a long time, they apparently had trouble getting a vein for the IV. They had sedated you and when they brought you back to me your tongue was hanging out and you were making a low mewling sound. You were scared, I'm sure, because you probably thought they were going to put you through another operation, which you hated so much. The vet was very gentle, but I know you hated him too because he operated on you. I held you and looked into your eyes and you calmed down and stopped making the mewling noise. The vet administered the drugs that stopped your heart and almost immediately, you were gone. I took you home with me (I promised I would never leave you at the vet again) and I buried you in the back yard. I put a pretty little bird bath near your grave and some flowers that are supposed to attract butterflies. You always loved watching the birds and butterflies in your back yard. I am so, so, so sorry that I couldn't make you better, or if I made any wrong decisions for your care. I wish that I had fought harder for you and never left you alone, not for one minute. I know you are no longer suffering, but you did not deserve to be scared, hungry, or in pain. You were such a good kitty-cat. For over 12 years we had a very special bond. From the time you came as a little stray about six months old until the end you were always a constant loving companion. I should have been a better kitty-momma, I wish that I had played with you more and brushed you more, you loved both so much. Thank you for all of the kitty cuddles and for greeting me every day when I came home from work, or the gym. I miss you so much - everywhere I look I see where you used to be, but you're not there anymore. I hear something and I listen for your paws, but they're not there. I leave the TV on at night, I'm afraid I'll dream of the vet's office, or of burying you. Mainly, I wanted to write to you to tell you thank you and to beg your forgiveness. I love you my little Misty-cat and I know that you are no longer in pain and that you've been restored to the beautiful, athletic cat you always were with no big, ugly tumour. I miss you and I love you....