You decided to move in with us in 2010 during a cold February day. It took over a year of outside feedings before you trusted us enough to be petted. It wasn’t long after that you decided to gift us by being part of our family.
You must have known I needed you and only you could guide me, teach me and be there for me. You cuddled up next to me putting your paw on my hand night after night after my son was diagnosed with kidney cancer. You didn’t judge my tears or try to stop them, you just let me know you cared. That taught me how to best comfort others.
I learned how to speak up for myself and communicate in a gentle, warm way and yet not tolerate being mistreated, by watching you. Your gentle spirit is healing. If someone went too far you showed me it is okay to show your claws, but never to bite.
You tolerate my kisses to remind me I also must be more tolerate even if it irritates me.
You must have known you needed me to find out what was wrong with you and entrusted your care during our last days together. We are in those days now and hospice care is never easy for anyone.
Your tough grace is astounding and yet incredibly heartbreaking to watch. My having to make a horrendous decision very soon on your behalf is taking all the lessons you have taught me on strength and love to endure this time.
As I tell you numerous times every day, “You are the best kitty EVER.”
Thank you for being you. Thank you for all the love.