Rage Against The Media: Sad, Broken but Still Writing

Hello my readers:

Today I will be using my blog for my own selfish purposes. I love you Michael but I have just recently had a death in my family that is affecting me greatly. Losing Michael was an amazingly HUGE loss in my life, and he will never be replaced, HOWEVER, I just experienced an even greater loss that has left me very sad, and very broken.

My kitty, my baby of 23 years has just passed and I am completely beside myself. 

I don't know if I will ever be able to have another kitty to raise, because of the pain I am experiencing at this moment but I am never one to be without hope.

To those of you who are animal lovers, I commend you. They are little angels placed on this earth for the sole purpose of improving our lives, and they love us unconditionally no matter what the circumstance. 

She was the most precious FRIEND I ever had, and she will never EVER be replaced. She always knew when I was sad or needed to smile, and she was never shy to seek me out and give me that smile or comfort. 

Just to give you a bit of history on how long she was in my life, her mother was also my kitty. I was 12 years old when her mother got pregnant with her, and when she gave birth, my kitty of 23 years, was born into my hands. I looked at my family, holding her, and said "This one is mine. I will be raising this kitty."

Just as she was born into my hands, she died in my hands as well. She was always one to have it her way, and being the Mommy I have always been, I was going to have it no other way as well 

(gee, I wonder where she got it from).

The scenario went as this:

I ran home from work on my lunch break to visit her and see how her health was doing, and when I saw her sleeping outside I walked over to her. She recognized me and used every ounce of energy that she had to raise her little head to look at me and meow. She was trembling when she did this.

I knelt down, scratched her chin (which was her favorite) and said "Okay. Okay. I see you baby. Mommy is going to take care of you and you won't have to be like this anymore."

With that statement, she closed her eyes, exhaled and laid down. As if she was saying to me, "Finally. I am ready Mommy and now I know you are too."

The next morning I showed up to check on her again, she lived at my parent's house, and saw that she wasn't really responding to anybody and she was cold. My mother and I carried her outside and laid her down in the sun, her favorite thing in the whole wide world, so she could get some warmth. 

We called the doctor, and rushed her over to the clinic. Mind you, two months ago when I took her in I had pronouced that the doctor would come to her so she wouldn't have to experience the trauma of being in the car in the last moments of her life. She was so ready to go that when I got in the car with her in my arms, wrapped in a towel, she didn't even know it. She slept almost the whole way there. 

This was an emergency and I needed to fulfill my promise to her.

She responded to me 3 times, which means she raised her head - looked at me then put her head back down while we were waiting. Slowly she was dying in my arms, and the light in her little eyes was slowly fading. 

The clinic had a garden where she could have the last moments of her life, and I held her the entire time. We sat on a swing outside, with her in my arms, and the doctor administered the shot.

There was no noise. No shudder. No sudden exhale which the doctor told us to be prepared for.

I sobbed. Her little paw still in my hand like the day she was born. I held my baby for another 20 minutes after she was passed, because I just couldn't seem to let her go even though she was gone.

My boyfriend gently held my shoulders as I delicately set her down on the swing wrapped in her towel. I took her little paw and placed it over her face, because that is how she always slept and began to walk away. 

Sobbing and staggering away from her, I kept looking back at her to try and process the reality of what just happened. My baby was gone, and gone forever. She wouldn't be waiting for her food in the morning anymore; she wouldn't be running away from the "ghost" in the house anymore; she wouldn't be attacking her favorite plastic bag anymore; and she wouldn't be teaching our little beagel manners anymore. 

She was gone.

Here is what a lady she was. She knew that her Mommy was tortured over having to make a decision over her, and so she made the decision for her Mommy. Once we had our little conversation outside, she checked out and she checked out fast. 

Either she was going to die in my arms at that moment or she was going to die in my arms by administration. There was no question. There was no confusion. It was time.

I will miss her forever and will forever have a hole in my heart from her absence. I know she is in the sky looking down on me, but I still very much feel the pain of her not being here anymore.

I wish I could just bouce back and be like "Hey! Let's Party!!", but it does not work that way. 

Forgive me for being melancoly but I am in recovery right now. Everything will be okay ONE DAY, I know it but it does take time.

Thank you for lending me your time. It means the world to me. 

I apologize for utilizing this blog created towards the purpose of defending Michael's legacy for my own selfish purposes but I felt you needed to know where my heart was.