Watched my best friend die (long)
This is long. It's about how I watched my best friend die. If you have a problem with someone saying that their best friend is a cat, then stop reading now.
This past Halloween, my cat died and there was nothing that I could do to save her. Her name was Princess. She was 15 and 1/2 years old and was the most beautiful siamese seal point cat. I adopted her the year she turned 9 (2004). Princess was my best friend and unlike most siamese cats, wasn't really all that talkative. She was talkative, but it wasn't all the time. Princess was my best friend and my fur baby. I loved coming home because I knew that she'd greet me at the door. She always let me know when I needed to stopping studying or working on a project. She'd play with her toys and run through the house as though she were still a kitten. Sometimes, when we'd play, she'd get at the corner of the couch and peep around at me. So, I'd get on the floor near her and stick my hand around to her. She'd swat at my foot...like she was swatting at a mouse. Sometimes, I'd tell her, "I'm gonna get you" and she'd take off running. She'd stop and look back at me. When I'd get close to her and speak again, she'd take off running. Princess had blankets all throughout the house and enjoyed napping on them. She enjoyed waking me up on the weekends, because she knew that she would get a kitty treat. If I didn't get up fast enough, she would start scratching on the carpet. Princess knew that I'd fuss about it...she knew that scratching the carpet was a no no. Bless her heart. Princess also enjoyed sitting on my lap, laying next to me at night, and stealing my seat whenever I got up. I loved her facial expressions. One minute, Princess could look at you as if to ask if it was ok if she sat with you on the couch. Then, when she did something she wasn't supposed to do, she'd look at me with those eyes and say, "Me? Do something wrong? Never." You couldn't stay mad. Of course, I was never mad at her. She always made me laugh and smile. Oh, the looks Princess would give me when I'd scoop her up and love on her and kiss her pretty little head (on the top of her head between her ears)...the evil eye. She so loved it when she could sit in the windows, on a nice day, and watch the birds, squirrels, and chipmunks. Princess loved it when I took her out in her pet stroller (yes, I know, I'm a crazy cat lady).
Her death was almost the end of me. I knew that Princess was lucky to live as long as she had, since most cats don't live that long. I also knew that she had some arthiritis (spelling?). She had apparently jumped off of a chair or the couch and landed wrong. Her foot (something in her leg) had sprained. I took her to the vet and he said that she would just have to heal. There wasn't anyhting that he could do. I put out extra bowls of water and food throughout. That way she wouldn't have to walk too far to get anything. Princess got to where she wouldn't hardly eat. She wouldn't even eat the special treats that I put out for her. But I had actually thought that she was getting better. On 31 October 2010, I got up and was getting ready for church. I noticed that she didn't seem to feel too well, compared to the few days before. After church, I went to lunch. When I came home, I found Princess under the bed in the spare room. I spoke to her and she just looked at me pitifully (spelling?). I changed clothes and went about my business. About an hour later, I went and brought Princess into the den and layed her on a blanket that my mom had knitted for her the Christmas before. Bless her heart. It hurt me to watch Princess suffer. I knew that there was a good chance she wouldn't make it through the night. I knew that if she did, that I was going to take her to the vet and talk to him (expecting him to say that she needed to be put to sleep). In the last few hours of her life, I watched as her body shut down. It killed me. Princess tried to get up and walk several times but couldn't. The only way that she could, was if I helped her. During those last few hours, I'd hold her, pet her, and kiss her. I'd tell her that I loved her and that she meant the world to me. I told her that God had sent her to me...she was my angel. I know that, before she died, she went blind. I could see it in her eyes. I don't even know if Princess could even hear me in the end. But she knew that I was there and that I loved her. I don't think Princess wanted to give up, but I think she just got to where she couldn't go on anymore.
Prncess died, at approximately 6 pm on Halloween of 2010. It killed me because I saw her take her last breath. I'm not one to cry and if I do cry, it's really, really bad. I mean the situation has to be really bad. I wanted to dig a grave next to hers and get into it. If I was someone that drank alcohol, I probably would've drunk myself to death. My home is now so empty and doesn't feel the same without her. I think about her everyday. It still hurts me to think about her death and knowing that she isn't here with me.
I'd adopt another cat (or kitten), but right now is not the time. I'm working on some persuading. I was told that it was ok that Princess came with me when I moved here. But if she died before I moved out, no more indoor kitties. I'm trying to get that changed. It would be a of great benefit to me, to have another cat around the house.
Princess, I love you baby girl. You are my best friend and I miss you so much. You were a wonderful cat and companion.