Her name was Oreo, and she passed away yesterday at around 5:30 pm. She had been suffering from a voracious skin cancer for several months now, and she was starving herself as a result.
My husband made the decision to take her to the vet and end the pain.
I had already said my goodbyes, as less than a week ago, I saw her for what I knew was the last time, before driving back here to Anaheim. My husband avoided telling me until my work week was done, as I had asked, because he and I both knew I would be torn up about it.
I am.
Oreo was a loving little team mate of mine, introducing herself to me as an attentive, intelligent cat who understood my every word, who patiently sat in an open box and waited for me to return an hour later, and greeted me with a quizzical look and a purr afterward. She was a voracious hunter, nearly wild when I got her, but who quickly became an A/C junkie. She was about a year old when I adopted her in to the family.
She came home with me very soon thereafter, and was my purring little cohort through out the rest of my middle school and High School years.
She put fur on the dress for my first Winter Formal, the dress for my Junior and senior proms, and my wedding dress. She met every one of my friends and boyfriends, including my husband. Her favorite human other than myself was my best friend Jeff.
She was loyal, loving, demanding, charmingly ill mannered, and intensely vocal.
She was a cat who acted like a dog, and reveled in every second of it.
She was mine, and she let every one know I was hers.
If there is a heaven, I hope your in it. If there is a heaven, you deserve to be there. If there is a heaven, I hope I'm as good as you thought I was, so I can pet you one more time.
I really hope there is a heaven, and I really hope your eying me now with a quizzical look and a purr.
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