Oh my Meg...

I was going along just fine today. Then all at once, I wrote down the date. . . and boom! I had to take a deep breath, look up, and blink rapidly in an effort to hold back the tears. I was successful, for the time being. Once I got home from work, the moment had slipped my mind. Then later, I was comfortable in my reading chair, I reached over to get a pen to jot down a note. For whatever odd reason, boom - it hit me again. . . that it was August 9th. The tears unexpectedly began to well up again. "Has it really been 6 years?" I said softly to myself. "Oh my word. How I miss her so very, very much!" And with that, the tears began to quietly roll down my cheek.

My dear sweet baby kitty, Meggy. Shown here many years ago, when she was just a kitten - just a few months after she was born in my closet. (You can click on the photo and learn a tad more about her) She lived to the ripe old age of 18 years and 6 months. It was August of 2001 and she had begun to act a bit strange. Back then, my vet (Cheryl) made house calls. So Cheryl came over on the 7th and took a look at Meg. It appeared that my poor old kitty had some sort of blockage near her bladder. Cheryl gave her a dose of antibiotics, in the hope that perhaps there was an infection and the medicine would bring down swelling. We gave it two days. But on the morning of the 9th, Meg was back to the strange behavior again. I went to work and I called Cheryl, knowing what the probable outcome would have to be. It broke my heart. We made the appointment for that afternoon. . . I think it was for 3pm. My Mom (who was my boss back then) told me to take the rest of the day off and go spend it with Meg. My Mom called my Dad (they've been divorced for years, but they get along great now). Mom asked my Dad if he would please go over to my apartment and be there for me during the appointment, since she couldn't be there. Dad said he would absolutely do that.

I spent the day with Meg. I gave her some of her favorite canned food treat. She normally ate dry food, but the canned food was for times when her teeth were bothering her or I just wanted to give her a little treat. She gratefully ate the treat. She got to spend quality time out on the balcony in her favorite camp chair. . . but she always seemed to think that it was a great kitty hammock! Perfect size and shape for the average kitty body. As the afternoon sun cooperated and moved around to light the balcony, she basked in the sun. I sat next to her, in the other chair, positioned in a shady spot, and I read. She would occasionally stretched out her paw and touch my thigh. I'd look over at her and she would be looking up adoringly at me, as if to thank me for the glorious afternoon. I was so eternally grateful that it was such a beautiful Summer day. It was warm, and a bit humid for Albuquerque, but great for Summer. At some point, Meg decided she was too warm, and she jumped off the chair and turned to look up at me. It was as if to say, "Have you had enough of the sunshine? I have, let's go in now." I smiled at her and I closed my book and went in the living room with her. She lead the way.

We went into the study, where I had a wonderful East-facing window and could see the Sandia mountains. Thunderstorms were brewing over the mountains and beginning to move toward the city. It was after all, our monsoon season. We settled onto the futon-sofa and Meg curled up in my lap. I petted her silky fur and she purred. I had to read some more. I couldn't stand to do much thinking at that point. She didn't look sick. She didn't act sick. But her bladder was blocked and it was most likely a tumor. There was nothing that could be done to save her. She was too old to operate on. So I opened my book with my free hand and read, while I stroked her beautiful soft furry form. She purred until she fell asleep, but even then, she would occasionally wake and immediately purr.

I began to hear thunder a few miles away. I looked out the window and the clouds had thickened substantially. I saw a flash of lightning. I looked at the clock and it was about 2:30pm. About five minutes later, there was a knock at my door. It was my Dad. He hugged me so tight. He told me he was so very sorry, but that I wouldn't want her to suffer. I told him, "I know, but that doesn't make letting go any easier."

When I had answered the door and let Dad in, Meggy had followed me, as she usually did. She jumped up on the living room couch and sat down. She was ready for my Dad to pay homage to her beauty. Dad dutifully bend down and scratched behind her ears and pet her. She closed her eyes and purred. About that time there was another clap of thunder. Meggy jumped down and ran into the bedroom and hid from the noise. That was about the time that the thunderstorm let loose. It poured!! It was a torrential downpour. . . the type that causes flash floods. Dad and I sat and chatted, while we waited for Cheryl to arrive. The rain continued and 3pm came. . . and passed. I figured Cheryl was stuck somewhere in the rain. At about 3:15pm, she called from her cell phone. She told me it would be a little bit, as she was stuck in the North Valley. She had been there seeing another client when the rain hit. One of the main roads there was flooded and she was having to take an alternate route, but it would take longer. I told her it was not a problem. . . I didn't mind the extra time with my sweet little fuzzy baby.

Meggy had made her way into the bathroom during the storm and regally situated herself upon a purple towel I had left on the counter. I let her stay there. She seemed comfortable there during the storm. That bathroom had two doors - one leading to the master bedroom, and another leading into the main living area. I sat in there with Meg, while Dad stood in the doorway to the living room. We chatted some more. I don't now remember about what. He was so sweet just to be there for me. I decided I wanted a photo of Meg on that purple towel. I knew it would be the last photo I would be able to take of her alive. I didn't have any film, but I did have a first generation digital camera. That is to say that it was not a great digital camera, but at least it would take some photos. I took a few photos of her on the towel. The first one I took, woke her from her nap and she appeared to be a little groggy. But then I told her, "Look at me sweet baby girl"and she perked up.

After a while, I think it was about 4pm, Cheryl arrived. She examined Meggy while she sat on her royal towel on the counter top. As expected, the swollen area had not gone down and Meg was blocked again. It would have only been a matter of a few hours before it would cause toxicity and great discomfort. There truly was nothing else that could be done. It was time. I wrote out a check for Cheryl. She suggested to get that out of the way, as things would be difficult enough later. Then I gently gathered Meggy up in my arms and took her into the bedroom. Dad picked up the towel and brought it. I asked him to lay the towel on the bed, where Meggy would be comfortable. I laid Meg down on the towel, on the bed. She wasn't sure she wanted to play this little game. She squirmed a little. I calmed her. Cheryl said that Meg would need a sedative first, as she was still kind of spunky. How ironic. That broke my heart too. She gave Meg the sedative shot and then she and my Dad went into the living room and sat on the couch. They chatted, while I had my last few minutes with Meggy.

Just then my other cat, Teazer jumped up on the bed. He was only 3 years old, but he seemed to understand that something of significance was happening. He is normally a bit of a handful. . . kind of a pill. But right then, he was calm, gentle, and well-behaved. He sniffed at Meggy and he nuzzled her. . . as if he knew it might be good-bye. I had mostly held back the tears. . . until that moment. Then Teazer jumped down and went into the living room, with Dad and Cheryl.

I could hear Cheryl talking to Teazer. He was trying to steal her pens and pull on the handle to her medical bag. She is always so sweet and gentle with him. . . even when he is being a little devil. It was only a few minutes, maybe five or ten that I had left to cuddle Meg. She became very groggy. Cheryl came in and checked her pulse and said it was time. She asked my Dad to please gently hold Meggy's back legs. Cheryl said Meg might jerk a little when the needle went in. I sat curled around my precious baby. I talked sweetly to her to ease the confusion that I imagined she must be feeling in a groggy state. My Dad had tears in his eyes, only one of about 4 times in my life that I have witnessed it. There was a slight jerk, but not much. I stroked Meggy's fur and talked to her. . . and I cried. Gradually, she relaxed more and more. Cheryl monitored her vital signs and told me when my sweet Meg was gone.

I don't remember much right after that. Only the sorrow. I know I must have seen Cheryl out the door. Dad help me gather Meggy's lifeless body. I took her over to my Dad's house. He has a few acres in the far NE heights, near the foot of the mountains. We had agreed that we would bury her there. The rest was mostly a blur. I know that Dad had me wait in the house while he dug the hole. We placed her in the ground and I sprinkled her with lavender and mint (she always love the way they smelled), before Dad buried her. She lays in view of the Sandia Mountains.

I still remember most of it almost like it was yesterday. So vivid, so strange. So you may wonder why I wrote of this now. I don't even know for sure, only that the anniversary came. . . sneaked up on me actually. Last year, it was a day that passed uneventfully. I remembered, but it didn't grab hold of me. I'm not sure why it hit so strong this year. It wasn't like I was counting the days or anything. I wasn't. It actually surprised me. I didn't expect to have any reaction. The date almost slipped past me. I expected the same this year. Maybe it's just fresher in my mind this year due to my friend loosing her husband to cancer. Maybe that has those memories closer to the surface.
2001 was an emotionally charged time for me. Two days after Meggy's death, my boyfriend of that time (Gilbert B.) learned that his cancer had returned. We had only met a short time before he was diagnosed! He had fought the cancer for 5 months, then had a month where he thought he was in the clear. . . then the news that it had returned. Three months later, he also died. Bad year.
And in between all that, of course -- Sept. 11th happened. What a crazy year!
And as you might imagine. . . if I remember Meggy's passing this vividly, of course I remember Gilbert's passing just as vividly, and maybe more so. But where as Meggy had a wonderfully long & full life, Gilbert was only 33 when he died. He loved cats. It was my hope that when he passed, perhaps Meggy was there to greet him along with his loved ones. I hope they took care of one another. I'm sure they have both watched over me.

I suppose it's just hard to believe it has been six years! I still think of them frequently.
Don't take time with loved ones for granted. Let people know that you love them. Give of your time. Life can turn in a New York Minute! Slow down and enjoy the people (and pets) who you have been blessed to have in your life.
Appreciate!

~Paulena