Hey, life? Are you kidding me?

Feeling a Loss, but Grateful as Well

Last night we lost our dear sweet cat, Tina. I had about decided not to blog about it because it is difficult, but she deserves to be included in the history that this blog might (or might not) serve of a history of part of our life.

We got Tina from a truck with a box of kittens at the side of the road. It was a spur of the moment surprise for my animal-loving son. We had cats before so this wasn't an willy-nilly irresponsible act. She was a beautiful calico.

I can say with all honesty that we never regretted including her in our home. Even when she pooped in the car as we were driving to safety from an Oklahoma tornado, or when she attacked my boob at a visit to the vet to have, well, a pet hysterectomy. She loved to lay on my side as I slept, sit on my papers as I graded them, and knock objects down in my son's room in the night.

She wasn't the most graceful feline. Many a jumps were incomplete with a look back at us as if to say - "Hey, you can't jump from the tv to the top of the dresser either."

She was a sweetheart though. She was a great mama cat - though the fact that she was a mama was a shock to me - she was very young and had 5 her first litter.

Tina loved to play fetch; yes, fetch. She would bring you little things like a hairband or a milk topper doo-dad and nose at you until you threw it. It would go on and on until my son or I made the object 'disappear' for awhile.

A few years ago, she acquired her best friend, Indy. Though she wasn't always fond of his youthful energy, she always took care of him and showed him the ropes. She would always let him eat first - and he had NO problem agreeing to that.

Tina loved my son and me. I know she did. We had her for almost 8 years. She had been sick for a little over a month - we tried all the vets suggested, but it was just too much for her. Last night, when I arrived home she tried to run out the door. The first time I'd seen her move that fast in weeks. I gathered her up and could tell this was probably the end. We hadn't put her down, because the vet thought there was a chance and didn't believe she was hurting. As I laid her on a chair, she began to have a seizure or something like it. It was the same sound I heard when my grandmother passed away. At that point she was unconscious. My wonderful husband gently laid her on one of my son's t-shirts by her water bowl. Bruce's older cat came and sat with her. In less than an hour, she was gone.

Bruce says she was waiting for me to get home. I like to think so. I am glad my son wasn't here. Though he is 18 and towers over the majority of people he knows, his heart is tender - and honestly, I suppose selfishly, I don't know how I could have handled Tina's death and seeing his sadness at the same time.

She is buried on our land now. I know she is at peace. I'm confident she knew we loved her and grateful for having her in our lives. . . but yet, I can't help wishing we had had even more time with her. I guess that's a human thing - we are grateful for what we were given and that the deceased are at peace but sometimes it's just not quite enough and that part that wants to cure the ache in your heart says 'I wish we could have had just a little more time.'

We love you, Tina. Thanks for blessing our lives.

A kiss to Heaven,
Audra