When Amber died... She was put down by the vet. She hadn't been able to walk at all. I slept outside with her, thinking that she would feel better in the morning. We took her to the vet and they told us about all of the things that were wrong with her...
I was angry about it. We should have taken her in for a checkup and then maybe we would have been able to save her. I was in tears when they rolled her away. She was looking at me with her big, round, brown eyes. She looked uncertain, scared. I just sat there. Crying. Uncertain and scared. I should have gone with her.
But I didn't, and nothing can change that.
Angel had been sitting by the front door. I knew she wanted out, but it was so cold I just couldn't let her. My mother brought home groceries, and when I came back to the door to bring some in, she was waiting there. She hadn't moved more than twice that day, and yet she found the strength to walk to the door. When it opened, she ran. I don't know how she did it, but she did. She made it a few feet, then started to wobble. I steadied her and helped her lay on her side. Then she started to convulse.
I wonder if things would have been different had I tried harder to keep her inside. If she hadn't used the last of her strength to get out.
I was hoping that tomorrow would be sunny. So I could take her out. She was always outside. She seemed happiest when I would sit out there with her. There was always two options with Angel: pet her constantly and keep her inside, or let her outside. Her favorite was the combo: pet her constantly while sitting outside.
She was the only cat I've ever met who enjoyed being held. Everyone always laughed at that, but I thought it was precious. She was like a fluffy baby. If I tried to put her down before she wanted to, she would cling to my shoulder and nuzzle her head into my neck. I already miss that feeling.
When I was little, she would sleep with me - she'd lay on my left arm. It was just how we went to bed. I can only remember one time that she actually stayed there all night, though. I was so happy, heh.
Every time we had a yard sale, we'd have to keep an eye on her. Once, a family almost drove off with her because she had jumped into their van. A few people asked if she was "for sale" a few times. I can't blame them. She was gorgeous.
Every time I would leave the house, she'd follow me. As cute as it was, it scared me. I didn't want her to follow too far since I was getting on the bus.
I've always been worried that she would get hit by a car. I hated her being an outdoor cat, but it made her happy. She was queen of the neighborhood.
Before we got her neutered, she had a litter of six kittens. I always wondered if she ever thought about them. If maybe she wanted to see them again. But cats probably don't care about that kind of thing, do they?
What always sucks about this is the regret. I would give nearly anything to just let her jump onto my keyboard again. Sit on my books, my mousepad, my lap. I wish I could go back and never push her away again. Never let her out just because she wanted to be pet before I did my homework. I think that the biggest regret I have is not taking more pictures. When JoJo died I told myself that I needed to do just that. But I didn't do it. I didn't take any new pictures at all.
She was my spoiled princess, and I love and miss her with every fiber of my being.
Rest in peace, my love.
