My Smokey passed away June 8, 2015. I know it has been over a year, but I couldn't share his story until now.
I got him when I was 12 & we had a total of 16 years to grow up together. He was truly a one of a kind kitty- the type that makes non cat people into cat people if that makes any sense. I cannot count the number of times I heard "If I get a cat, I would want it to be just like your Smokey." The highest of compliments any cat owner could receive! Everyone at the vet's office loved him. I'd walk in and they'd hollar back "Smokey's here if you want to see him!" Then they'd all come and love on him. Actually, the vet had to make a decree that would have to wait until after his appt was over because if they started in before he would get to purring so much that he couldn't hear his heartbeat!
He loved to cuddle. He hated Coldplay. He'd let you do anything you wanted to him. He was affectionately nicknamed my little 'Dr. House' cat as he was addicted to pain pills and walked with a limp. He loved me- so much more than I ever imagined.
That day- as I was taking him to the vet to end his pain, I made a little bed for him with some towels and a laundry basket. I placed him in it and put it in the passenger seat in my car. I didn't even make it out of the driveway before I heard the faintest little meow in protest. I picked him up and put him on my lap where he slept in peace until we made it to the vet 45 minutes away. The vet and I had discussed this day before and so I knew what to expect. He took me into a private room and gave him a shot of anesthesia so that I knew for sure he wouldn't feel any of the other stuff. Then he let me hold him for 10 more minutes so that I could officially say goodbye before he came in and gave him his final shot.
This may sound creepy, or gross, so sorry but I just couldn't put him back on the seat next to me. His little meow of protest was still too much in my brain for that, and so when he and I got back in the car I placed him on my lap since that is where I knew he would want to be. We went to my Grandma's house, waited for my dad to get off work and come dig a grave, then put him to rest.
That night I came home to a super empty apartment and bawled my eyes out. Two days later, I started the search for my next kitty. It was too quiet. I kept expecting him to come around the corner or curl up in bed with me and every time he didn't I would get so sad. I needed a distraction, something that I could take care of while I was healing-- and God provided me with the perfect baby. A 9 year old cat who had lived at the shelter her entire life. She desperately needed someone to give her a home- her first ever. I picked her up June 13, 2015 and have never regretted that decision. We've learned a lot from each other- I've taught her how to be someone's pet & she has taught me how to be an owner to a cat that isn't Smokey.
I got him when I was 12 & we had a total of 16 years to grow up together. He was truly a one of a kind kitty- the type that makes non cat people into cat people if that makes any sense. I cannot count the number of times I heard "If I get a cat, I would want it to be just like your Smokey." The highest of compliments any cat owner could receive! Everyone at the vet's office loved him. I'd walk in and they'd hollar back "Smokey's here if you want to see him!" Then they'd all come and love on him. Actually, the vet had to make a decree that would have to wait until after his appt was over because if they started in before he would get to purring so much that he couldn't hear his heartbeat!
He loved to cuddle. He hated Coldplay. He'd let you do anything you wanted to him. He was affectionately nicknamed my little 'Dr. House' cat as he was addicted to pain pills and walked with a limp. He loved me- so much more than I ever imagined.
That day- as I was taking him to the vet to end his pain, I made a little bed for him with some towels and a laundry basket. I placed him in it and put it in the passenger seat in my car. I didn't even make it out of the driveway before I heard the faintest little meow in protest. I picked him up and put him on my lap where he slept in peace until we made it to the vet 45 minutes away. The vet and I had discussed this day before and so I knew what to expect. He took me into a private room and gave him a shot of anesthesia so that I knew for sure he wouldn't feel any of the other stuff. Then he let me hold him for 10 more minutes so that I could officially say goodbye before he came in and gave him his final shot.
This may sound creepy, or gross, so sorry but I just couldn't put him back on the seat next to me. His little meow of protest was still too much in my brain for that, and so when he and I got back in the car I placed him on my lap since that is where I knew he would want to be. We went to my Grandma's house, waited for my dad to get off work and come dig a grave, then put him to rest.
That night I came home to a super empty apartment and bawled my eyes out. Two days later, I started the search for my next kitty. It was too quiet. I kept expecting him to come around the corner or curl up in bed with me and every time he didn't I would get so sad. I needed a distraction, something that I could take care of while I was healing-- and God provided me with the perfect baby. A 9 year old cat who had lived at the shelter her entire life. She desperately needed someone to give her a home- her first ever. I picked her up June 13, 2015 and have never regretted that decision. We've learned a lot from each other- I've taught her how to be someone's pet & she has taught me how to be an owner to a cat that isn't Smokey.
