Your Pet Tributes

by Becky
(Pittsburgh)

I lost my baby on Saturday, 4-9-11. I hope I did right by him.

I got him in May of 1996 when I was 25. He was given to me by a boyfriend. He was a rotten kitten, hiding under the couch and jumping out and biting my leg. I didn't want another cat and it took me a while to warm up. Him too. He looked just like a wierd little gremlin, so I called him Gizmo.

He travelled with me from apartment to apartment, from home to home, from relationship to relationship. Always adapted to every situation, without a complaint. Such a good groomer, so neat and clean. Never an accident.

Once when I was in the process of moving, I had my sister take care of him for two months. She had an old female cat. When I went to pick him up after the two months were over he bit me. He was mad at me for leaving him and didn't talk to me for a couple weeks. My sister told me that he was so gentlemanly, he would let "ladies first", and let her old cat have the choice spot on the couch and eat first. He had to be three times her size, and could have went first, but let her.

And Badger - let me tell you about this. When I lived with a man in the backwoods of PA, who hated cats - he and his son killed a mother cat and her babies behind the house - but missed one. It took me two weeks to catch this wild, puny smoke colored wild kitten who I named Badger, and once I did, he clung on to Mo for his dear life, and proceded to follow poor Mo around for the next six years. He slept with him like a kitten, all snuggled up until the day Mo died. He loved him so much. Mo was like that - adjusting, and doing the right thing.

I finally in my 38th year got married for the first time to a man who (thank god!) loves cats. Mo loved the male attention and I am thankful of that. He was so good to Mo these last few years.

Mo and me, we were like an old married couple, poking around in the yard, taking naps, he putting up with cranky me and me putting up with cranky him. 15 years of companionship, 15 years of him being with me changing jobs, getting sober, and working my way through life.

Mo started getting sick this year. I won't get into how it came to and end, but he ended up at the vet and got bloodwork and scans, and there was a mass in his belly. I saw him declining the last week, getting confused, stopping eating and drinking....I took Friday off work and spent the day with him, napping, talking, patting him, and Saturday I had him put down. I buried him in the yard in his green blanket. I just couldn't see opening him up at that age and poking around. He didn't deserve to be messed with and stressed out I thought, he was sick enough.... I hope I did the right thing... you think, was there something more I could have done? Did I quit too soon or at the right time?

My husband went with me and helped me through it, I'm still working through it, Badger is looking for Mo and crying....I'm thinking about Mo and crying... my cat songs for Mo going through my mind...

I read the story about the Rainbow Bridge, I hope he's waiting for me. I planted catnip seeds on his grave today. When I harvest it I will give it to Badger.

I miss him so much. My old grouch on the couch. My best pal Mo.