I had to do that thing that most pet owners dread. I had to have one of our kitties put to sleep. She had feline leukemia and was so anemic the vet was shocked that she was even still alive. She was also about two weeks shy of having her first litter of kittens.
This was a stray that I rescued from a busy street in town because I couldn't stand the thought of her getting killed and I just had a sense that she would. Not that we needed another cat. We already have three, also the products of someone dumping a pregnant cat.
We only had Miss Kitty for about four weeks, but somehow I got really attached in that short time. She was a sweet little gray and white tabby that purred every time I touched her and never offered to scratch or bite even when I was cleaning out the mites in her ears. I have scars from doing that with other cats.
Even so, I was still surprised at how emotional I got when the vet gave the fatal injection and I cried off and on most of the day yesterday after I buried her. I know we grieve for animals, even though there are some who think that is silly, but I really didn't expect the depth of grief I felt, and am feeling as I write this.
I guess this is just another example of what I have come to believe is true about grief. There are no rules. No timelines. No reasonable explanations for how it happens. It just is. The important thing is to acknowledge it and move through it.
So I will shed another tear as I think of Miss Kitty and her babies.
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