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- Jan 14, 2014
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I adopted her after she had been found half starved, flea infested, with 4 babies.
She followed us where ever we went. She'd follow anyone walking around the neighborhood and walk right into their house with them and would walk the kids to and from the school bus.
Good thing everyone loved her, because she liked to sleep in the middle of the road. (Good thing it was a tiny neighborhood, with patient neighbors!) I tried to make her an indoor only cat, but she took to jumping out 2nd story windows to get outside! (Finally got smart and dumped gravel on her spot in the road)
She's survived an ACL injury/surgery/6 weeks in cast. (You should have heard the sailor talk coming out of my normally sedate mouth when I brought her home from the vet....only to have her jump right out of the crate and off the porch with her $2000 knee!!)
She taught me to always listen to my instincts. One evening it was time to bring her inside and I found her waiting on the stoop. Something was wrong. No sign of any injury, but I took her to the emergency vet. Someone had shot her....in the head! And it wasn't a bb. She recovered fully.
She was loving, snuggly, and purry. She would be alone in the room....and purring. She didn't mind if the teenagers in the house were playing video games and couldn't pet her.....she would just lay across their hands while they played. Or sit on the top of the couch and wash their "fur" for them.
She slept with me. Waking me up often for petting. Sometimes she'd just crawl on top of me and purr. Or sit beside me and purr until I woke up. Sometimes she'd lick me. Or rub her face on mine. Or when I didn't cooperate she'd take out one claw and poke me. Just one claw.
She chased dogs she didn't like.
She snuggled with the ones she did like.
Her favorite sleeping spot was in the dirt under a holly bush.
When she was young the boys called her the "buffalo cat" because she would stampede from one side of the house to the other - slamming into the walls because she couldn't stop in time.
Never had to buy a mousetrap.
As she got older and needed more trips to the vet, I counted my blessings every time I walked out of the door with her in her carrier.
And I stopped trying to ignore when she woke me up for petting; because I knew time would run out.
Last Saturday, it did.
I had always promised her that when life wasn't fun for her anymore, that would be that. For years I had wondered what it would be like; would there be an accident that ended her life, or would I need to? She'd spent so much time at the vets in her life, I dreaded ending her life in a clinic. I was lucky to be blessed with a vet who indulged my wishes on her final day - taking her behind the clinic to the trees and bushes, letting her rest in the leaves and sunshine, forgetting where she was. When it was time, I held her.
She was 18. And I miss her.
Thanks for listening.
Here's Sheba:
She followed us where ever we went. She'd follow anyone walking around the neighborhood and walk right into their house with them and would walk the kids to and from the school bus.
Good thing everyone loved her, because she liked to sleep in the middle of the road. (Good thing it was a tiny neighborhood, with patient neighbors!) I tried to make her an indoor only cat, but she took to jumping out 2nd story windows to get outside! (Finally got smart and dumped gravel on her spot in the road)
She's survived an ACL injury/surgery/6 weeks in cast. (You should have heard the sailor talk coming out of my normally sedate mouth when I brought her home from the vet....only to have her jump right out of the crate and off the porch with her $2000 knee!!)
She taught me to always listen to my instincts. One evening it was time to bring her inside and I found her waiting on the stoop. Something was wrong. No sign of any injury, but I took her to the emergency vet. Someone had shot her....in the head! And it wasn't a bb. She recovered fully.
She was loving, snuggly, and purry. She would be alone in the room....and purring. She didn't mind if the teenagers in the house were playing video games and couldn't pet her.....she would just lay across their hands while they played. Or sit on the top of the couch and wash their "fur" for them.
She slept with me. Waking me up often for petting. Sometimes she'd just crawl on top of me and purr. Or sit beside me and purr until I woke up. Sometimes she'd lick me. Or rub her face on mine. Or when I didn't cooperate she'd take out one claw and poke me. Just one claw.
She chased dogs she didn't like.
She snuggled with the ones she did like.
Her favorite sleeping spot was in the dirt under a holly bush.
When she was young the boys called her the "buffalo cat" because she would stampede from one side of the house to the other - slamming into the walls because she couldn't stop in time.
Never had to buy a mousetrap.
As she got older and needed more trips to the vet, I counted my blessings every time I walked out of the door with her in her carrier.
And I stopped trying to ignore when she woke me up for petting; because I knew time would run out.
Last Saturday, it did.
I had always promised her that when life wasn't fun for her anymore, that would be that. For years I had wondered what it would be like; would there be an accident that ended her life, or would I need to? She'd spent so much time at the vets in her life, I dreaded ending her life in a clinic. I was lucky to be blessed with a vet who indulged my wishes on her final day - taking her behind the clinic to the trees and bushes, letting her rest in the leaves and sunshine, forgetting where she was. When it was time, I held her.
She was 18. And I miss her.
Thanks for listening.
Here's Sheba:
It's always hard to lose a loved one, no matter what their species.
