I have read many diaries here from people who have lost their pets. Unknown to most I am a sentimental person, and I usually cry when I read them. So I hope that I will be indulged today to mourn for my cat Windy. She was 17 years old and hd a nice life and I already miss her greatly.
I rescued Windy from a shelter when she was 2 months old. I got her for my girlfriend who later became my ex wife. I knew nothing about cats when I got her. She seemed fairly docile, so I thought she would be a good fit for two middle aged empty nesters. When I got her home to my one bedroom condominium I quickly realized that I was conned. She started running around the apartment like a crazy little thing. The first night she kept me up jumping on me and climbing the screens. Her first night with us was almost her last.
However she quickly won my heart. I named her Windy after the city I love. My wife would not let me name her after Michael Jordan. We used to play fetch with little rubber balls and she would chase after bubbles and could not understand why they disappeared. Every piece of furniture was hers to jump on. It was like I was more her pet than vice versa. Even though I bought her for my now ex wife, she quickly became my cat. She would sleep with me and when I would come home from work, sometimes exhausted at 10 or 11 P.M. she would always be at the door waiting for me. My ex wife would have long gone to bed.
She was with me through all the difficulties I faced in the last 17 years. My ex wife was a spend thrift and no matter how many hours I worked or how much money I would make it was never enough. Yet Windy did not care; she just loved me. She was with me when I lost my leg due to an infection. She was with me when I lost my job and had t go on disability.
Luckily after the divorce I ended up getting custoday when as a matter of spite my ex wife sent her back to the shelter when she was 11 years old. We lived with my parents for the last six years as I made a new life for myself. She was with me every step of the way. She was never judgmental; she just wanted to be fed and find a comfortable place to sleep. She also like to play on occaission and loved to be groomed. I guess that and having a clean potty are the keys to a happy life.
As she got older she slowed down. A few years ago she stopped wanting to play or eat Chinese Food (She was clearly a Jewish cat.) The vet bills started getting progressively larger, but I did not care, so long as she was with me. She was relatively healthy until last week when she stopped grooming herself. Friday she stopped eating and spent the day sleeping under my desk. I knew something was wrong so I took her to the vet.
When the vet told me it was time for her to permanently rest, I remembered a promise that I made to her when I regained custody of her; I would always due right by her and never needlessly let her suffer for my benefit. To be honest I am more upset about losing Windy than I was about losing my leg or having a heart attack recently. I had not cried like that since I was maybe five years old.
I will always be grateful for the time I had with her. I realize that I would rather have days like yesterday than not sharing my life with my best friend.