Purrs and Tears (Written September 2, 2011)

She was a sweetheart. She loved my oldest daughter the most and came to her when ever called. She was not large, not long anyway. She was a bit pudgy. She was very soft. And she was a purrer. You just looked toward her and she purred.

She was in a litter of a feral cat who bore her kittens in a storage space under our house. Five little fur balls that we took in a decade ago. Amber, Asta, John, Ridge and Thorn. They were the "Bold and the Beautiful"  Bunch, three named for characters on that show. John was named after John Lennon by my son.

Now only Asta and Thorn remain for Amber died today.

She had begun to act differently last week, wanting to be in the bathroom. Cats often seek out a place to die. At first I thought she was remembering her kittens. She was the only one of our cats who ever gave birth to a litter. We thought all the males had been neutered, but one must have either escaped the snip or something. Those are her kits pictured on the right. They were all adopted out.

She was a good mother. She watched over her little ones faithfully, staying with them in our bathroom until they were weaned and old enough to be put up for new homes.

It was kind of sad to see her look for her children for some time after they were gone. But it was necessary.

So maybe she was remembering during these her last days, I don't know.

She began crying intermittently and the other day I noticed she couldn't quite jump up as she used to. Now she wanted to drink a lot. She was different. She wanted to drink from the spigot in the kitchen sink and I would lift her up to the sink and turn on the water.

My oldest daughter took her to the shelter vet this morning. They found Amber had cancer, a large mass in her chest and so they put her to sleep today.

Perhaps tonight she is with her brothers, John and Ridge. If cats go to heaven, then the Angels will her purr  and perhaps someday in the future I will hear her again myself.