Goodbye to a Dear Friend

I wasn't looking for an addition to the household, but a friend who wanted to adopt a cat asked me to go with her to the local humane society in 1997. I probably knew I was doomed before I set foot in the shelter. I have a tendency to get caught up in emotions even when they don't belong to me. I'm like a sponge and whether the emotion belongs to a human or animal, it hits me to the core.

There was so much sadness and longing in that shelter. A Tortie Point Himalayan caught my attention. She looked matted. She had the bluest, most beautiful, human-like eyes I had ever seen in a cat. It didn't take me long to decide to adopt her. The ladies at the front desk admired my choice. Not many people adopt the older cats. Many look for kittens. They didn't know how old my cat was because she had been homeless.

Pixie died this morning. After watching her not eat or drink for the past couple of days, I made the most humane decision I could. I couldn't bear to see my precious girl in pain. She was no longer the frisky cat she had always been. She had been struggling with an illness over the past several months. She had been on and off medicine based on the vet's recommendations. And I think she was ready to go. Pixie tried to seclude herself all weekend, although I kept finding her and telling her all the things I should have told her over the past ten years. I even tried to give her extra lap time, something she always craved and would have been happy just doing most of her days.

In the vet's office this morning, before she was given the first sedation shot, Pixie nestled up to my chest as if to say, "I'm ready to go mom." She didn't cry when the vet administered the first shot and after several minutes, she fell into a deep sleep.

I didn't want Pixie to die, but I know she's in a better place now. She's in heaven with all the energy of her youth. She's getting as much lap time and outside air time as she wants. Before we stepped inside the vet's office today, I pointed her towards the sunrise and told her that she would see even more vibrant and glorious sunrises in heaven. After all, according to Isaiah,

The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatted calf together; and a little child shall lead them. (Isaiah, 11:6)

I believe animals go to heaven. Some will argue that animals don't have souls, but I've known animals that are more compassionate than humans. Pixie offered her heart and I wish I would have offered more of mine.

When I came home with Pixie, I saw a sight on the living room floor that I had never seen before, probably because I'm not usually home at that time or I'm running after Jack on the weekends. I saw a rainbow spectrum on the floor. To me, a rainbow means new life and a promise of hope. We saw a rainbow on the morning Jack was born. At the time, I remembered thinking, maybe Jack will be born today and we saw him for the first time that evening.

This passage from Genesis gives me hope:

I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth. And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud: And I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh. (Genesis, 9: 13-15).I have many regrets of not spending enough quality time with Pixie and for taking for granted that I would always have time to do more with her. So, please give your precious ones some extra love. My remaining kitties and puppy have been smothered with love this evening.