Mourning

My 14th birthday sucked. Not a single one of my friends remembered and were all busy. My mom had made no plans. I had just managed to escape the twisted plastic and steel confines of my scoliosis prison and I wanted to have some fun. I was so disappointed. I cried my eyes out.

My mom felt so guilty, she decided the best way to cheer me up was to let me have something I had wanted forever: a pet. I'd never really had one (my guinea pig that lasted all of 5 months didn't count) and she thought a little bundle of fur would lift my spirits. She was right.

We went to the pound. I looked and looked at several different kittens. Lightening (as my cat was to be called) chose me. He stuck his little paw out of his cage and tapped on my shoulder repeatedly to get my attention. I looked at his gray & black tiger-striped face. He was the one.

I took him home and he ran all over the house exploring, but in the evening, all he wanted to do was curl up on my blanket-covered lap. He was soft and cuddly and exactly what I had always wanted. I was always, from that moment on, the only one who could ever hold him without him squirming to get away. I was his favorite.

In four years it was time for me to go away to college. The cat couldn't come with me so he stayed behind with my parents. He has been there ever since - never once coming with me on one of my moves. My parents have alternately adored and hated him. As he grew older, he grew more cantankerous. He knocked things over, he pissed on the carpet and furniture, he threw up anywhere he chose whenever he chose. I heard it all. My parents would always say, "You know what your cat did?" I always thought that was funny considering he hadn't lived with me in years and I had sort of stopped thinking of him as mine.

Yesterday, 14 and a half years after I got him, I got the phone call from my mom that they were going to have to put him down. I knew it would be coming soon, but I didn't think I'd find out only minutes before the procedure would actually happen. I had no time to process it before I knew it was happening.

When I went home for my birthday this past year, Ligtening looked bad. He was all skin and bones. My mom said he weighed in at 4.5 pounds when he went in to the vet this last time. He was old and really looked it. I had told mom then that if his upkeep would be too difficult or too expensive that they should put him down. I was perfectly logical when I made that suggestion.

Logic had no part in my reaction yesterday. I cried for what I was losing without being able to say goodbye. I cried for the joy that little furball had brought to my life - however long it had been. I cried for what I will never see again whenever I go home to see my parents. I cried for the first pet I ever really lost.

I know that it's just a part of life and he was just a cat. But to me, he was a friend when I needed one. A comfort I didn't know I needed until I claimed him as mine. Now, he is gone. And I am sad.