Closure, I hope.

Let me preface this entry by saying it will not be in the usual vein of sarcasm I tend to write. There will be some bad language, it is a sensitive subject and it will be sad. I wont feel bad if you don't read it, but I have to get this out. Thanks for your understanding. Sunday April 26th, just before 2am my sweet little yellow kitty, Lila, passed away. I knew it was coming and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it. We had no money to provide the care she would need to prolong her life, and there was very little hope of saving her, just in buying her more time. I wish it had been different. I wish I had not been so stupid as to think that she would be okay at home, she would be among family and would find a favorite spot and simply lie down and drift off for the last time. It wasn't like that, not even close. She had not eaten in almost a week, her last trip to the water bowl was 3 days prior. She was gaunt, but she would still make small walks to her favorite spots to rest in and out of the house. She did love to lie in the sun on the patio so I let her. She walked all around out there, slowly and with long naps between changing spots. She came inside when it began to get dark, same as always. She was a good kitty. Then when she got inside, there was a noticeable change in her. She made shorter walks, laid in odd spots and appeared to be in pain. Around 7pm I noticed she was on a rug behind the couch, where ultimately she would stay. She would change positions, but it was clear she was hurting. Then she just couldn't change positions anymore, only turn over. This was when I decided I could no longer let her be and I went to lie down with her, to pet her, talk to her and let her know that she was loved, we had all had a great time with her but that it was time for her to go now. You see in the movie playing in my head, once I said all of this, she would close her eyes, have one last deep breath and just "go" in peace. What followed was more than 6 hours of pain, loss of bodily control and general anguish. She cried out, clearly hurting and not sure what was going on. She had multiple spasms throughout her body where she would ultimately either draw up in a "fetal" position or go the other way and arch her back and not be able to move. I moved her back into a more "normal" pose, hoping this would ease the suffering and at least allow her to breathe for what time she had left. Great huge wracking ragged breaths were drawn in, and I pray I will be able to forget the sounds that came out of her. Legs and feet stiffened, drawing up to her body. She was hurting and there was nothing I could do NOW. If I hadn't been so cheap, I could have spared her this pain and let the vet put her down. I caused this pain on my little yellow kitty and now I have to live with that. I finally moved her into the carrier I would use to transport her to the pet crematorium, lined with a towel for comfort -yeah, I have to make her comfortable at this point. I put one of the baby blankets we have left from the early days with kids and covered her, actually had done that a few hours before, but it went in the carrier too. She deserves some dignity and no one to be seeing the signs of the misery she had to endure. Still, the sad sounds and infrequent breaths would come. I don't know how many prayers I said, asking, pleading, begging God to please just take her and end the suffering. He didn't. I can't say it shook my faith but I am a bit upset with him. I suppose it was a lesson to teach me to get my priorities in order and take better care of my responsibilities, but that was not what she deserved. No, I don't really think God works like this, but I am in pain and need somwhere to direct my anger. I think anger is part of the process, right? I forget the order or how many steps there are, but I know anger and denial are among them. I know, she is no longer in pain, but she was in pain and that is hard enough. I am one who believes in ghosts, including animals, and I did tell her that she was always welcome to be with me wherever I am. I am trying very hard to focus on the little yellow kitty who leaped up on my AC to peer in the window at the goings on inside my apartment; who would hide in the bushes when I put food our for her but eventually came to trust me enough to come eat while I sat there, which is how she became an indoor kitty; who sat thru my daughter's first cold and let her snuggle even though she was coughing and sneezing and not letting Lila get a nap; who had the most uncanny knack of finding an exposed bit of skin and pressing her sweet pink - and very cold - nose to you; who slept right beside me every night, got up with me to tend to the kids; who would sit next to the food bowl and give me "the look" if there was even the tiniest bit of 'bowl' showing thru the food. That is the Lila I need to recall and the one I miss so much I am in physical pain. I love you sweet girl and I hope you had as good a life with us as we did with you. There is a back story here that a few people know about, but I will share. Outside we have various kitties who come and go, some were born under our house even. One died under there after a fight with another animal. Of the remaining ones, there is one who recently had 3 kittens. It was her first litter and she is very young. I first saw them at about 4 weeks, which was this past week, maybe on Tuesday. I was able to play with them, and to spend some time with them. Then on Thursday, one of them died. No obvious cause, but I found her shortly afterward and had to explain to the kids what happened. Macy offered her crayon box to bury the kitty in. Daddy did the digging and Macy helped cover the box. Friday morning, I opened the blinds to see mama kitty walking across the driveway with one kitten following. I went outside to a spot I knew mama kitty to sleep in, and sure enough, there was the other kitten and he was in bad shape. I picked him up, went and snagged his remaining sibling as well, and brought them inside. I gave them water, they were very thirsty. The little male was very limp and even though he made noises like mews, he was too far gone and he died in my hands. This spurred me on and I made it my mission to save the remaining kitty. As fate would have it, she was a little orange kitty so maybe thats why I had a soft spot. I went and got the kitten milk, some canned food and even toys - I just knew this kitten would be okay as she had been the strongest all along. I fed her from an eye dropper every 4 hours, cleaned her when she pottied, bathed her to get the infestation of fleas off her tiny body. I made her a rice sock and got Lon to bring in a cage from the shed so she would be able to see the other cats but be safe. She was very tiny but she was trying. She made it thru the night and I continued with the feedings, cleanings, etc. Kept her warm with the rice sock, gave her water and food as well as kitten milk. Then Saturday night when I was sitting with Lila, the little orange kitten died too. So me, who loves cats indeed more than some people, had 4 cats pass away on her within 3 days. True, the kittens were not 'mine' and honestly it didn't hurt as much as Lila, but it was a lot to deal with at once. I have never wanted to get the hell out of anyplace as badly as I want to get out of here now. Too much bad mojo. I came here with 9 beautiful kitties, added 1 more yet now I have 4 wooden boxes with the ashes of four of my babies in them. It's time to go.