Kitty Tears

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Yesterday morning we had to put our cat Coco down.

Dear, sweet Jesus, help me, I miss my cat.

And yes, faithful reader, I meant that as a prayer.

Coco was the runt of the litter. A little black puff of fur and purr. She would have been 18 years old in human years in January. But in kitty years she was elderly.

I came home tonight to a silent home.

No meows to greet me, even though usually that means “Put something in my mouth now, please”.

My favorite thing to do in the evening was to get my throw and let her curl up in a ball next to me until we both became too hot and I started to sweat. But I let her stay because I loved to hear her purr.

I will not miss the hairballs. But I would gladly deal with those to have her around again.

She also liked to sing the song of her people.

Loudly.

If you don’t have a cat, you are probably wondering, “what in the world is the song of her people?” But nothing is as loud as the meows of a cat that wants your attention. They seem to enjoy it.

Because it tortures their humans. Yes, cats are really like that.

On Saturdays when we were trying to sleep in they were especially loud. I remember thinking not too long ago that I wish she would be quiet for once.

She won’t be singing now.

And now it’s too quiet.

It’s hard to write through the tears.

Unconditional love. That’s what pets give. And it is a blessed gift.

I emptied my tears on her soft fur yesterday. I was so thankful for her. She couldn’t see me anymore, but she wasn’t in pain. She was done with this world.

Dear, sweet Jesus, help me, I miss my cat.

But thank you for sending her to me.

 

Blessings!

Sharon

 

 

 

 

 

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