Yesterday Mircea and I had the unpleasant task of making the decision to put Lily down. When we got back from the trip, Lily greeted us happily, and she and I spent that whole night with cuddles, loving and kisses. The next morning she was downstairs and she didn't move from her spot all day, and I encouraged her to drink water, but she only sat there, occasionally crying out and then getting sick. After we picked Yukon up from the vet yesterday, we returned with Lily to have her examined. Dr. Edwards (our beloved vet at Solomon's Vet-we'll pay the premium price for her) told me we had to get Lily in the oxygen tank immediatly and we did some x-rays to find that my little girl had a mass on her lung and that her trachea was curved. Our options were very limited, and didn't give us a good chance to do anything but stress her further. We made the choice to set Lily free from her struggles and held and comforted her as Dr. Edwards did her selfless task.
Lily was a special girl, and anyone who hugged that little calico body knew she was a cut above. I was one of the late-bloomers on that love for her...until this last October when she comforted me through my recovery, she was always "my mother's cat" first and mine second. But she was my best little friend. I cried into her fur when my mom died, I cried into her fur when my dad remarried, through breakups, falling in love, losing loved ones, etc. Lily Bear was my silky girl who always had enough love in her heart no matter how she was feeling. From the days of the skinny stray that deposited kittens under our porch and filled the void for my mother when I left for college, to the little baby who held out the two weeks while Mircea and I were gone so that she could give us a proper goodbye, Lily was the perfect cat. Sure, she thought the shortest distance between two places was across a set of testicles, and she taught little Fernie to scoot her booty on the floor after going No. 2, but she was a doll. No one will ever take her place in my heart.
I'm comforted in knowing that she is with my Mom now, her first Mommy, and that they are both together again, cat in lap, happy human illiciting that Harley-Davidson purr.
I miss you Lily. I thank you for all you gave me - you were far more than "just a cat".
Lily was a special girl, and anyone who hugged that little calico body knew she was a cut above. I was one of the late-bloomers on that love for her...until this last October when she comforted me through my recovery, she was always "my mother's cat" first and mine second. But she was my best little friend. I cried into her fur when my mom died, I cried into her fur when my dad remarried, through breakups, falling in love, losing loved ones, etc. Lily Bear was my silky girl who always had enough love in her heart no matter how she was feeling. From the days of the skinny stray that deposited kittens under our porch and filled the void for my mother when I left for college, to the little baby who held out the two weeks while Mircea and I were gone so that she could give us a proper goodbye, Lily was the perfect cat. Sure, she thought the shortest distance between two places was across a set of testicles, and she taught little Fernie to scoot her booty on the floor after going No. 2, but she was a doll. No one will ever take her place in my heart.
I'm comforted in knowing that she is with my Mom now, her first Mommy, and that they are both together again, cat in lap, happy human illiciting that Harley-Davidson purr.
I miss you Lily. I thank you for all you gave me - you were far more than "just a cat".
