Our kitty, Bobbi, was rescued by a sweet girl from the WalMart garden department where she worked. I know it sounds strange. She said the kitty had been living there for about a year and even had a litter of kitten that did not survive. So Bobbi, named so because she didn't have (much of) a tail, came to live with us. Bobbi was fixed so we didn't have any kittens. Fattened up, cause she was fur and bones when we got her. She was such a sweet and loving kitty from the very beginning. She liked feet. I had never known a cat with a foot fetish before. :)
Well, last week Bobbi went off and didn't come around for a meal one evening. She had done this a couple of times before and was always back the next day. Probably off playing with a mouse or something. She was a great mouser! But this time Bobbi didn't come back. Three days later, on Saturday morning, my husband found her on our front porch. She was alive, but barely. She had been severely injured. Probably by a wild animal, since we live in a rural area. She was a very fast runner and could climb a tree like it was nothing. So we just don't know how it could have happened. But it was obvious by her injuries that something could run as fast or faster than she could.
The vet actually had a very positive attitude. They even said they thought she would live. She got some IV fluids and antibiotics. She even got up and walked around a very little bit in her crate after a couple of hours. And she would need surgery to repair her injuries. But it was about six hours later when the vet called to say her vital signs were dropping and she would not live much longer. That is a sad decision to make. But we definitely didn't want her to suffer any longer. We didn't really think she had much of a chance from the beginning. But that glimmer of hope was there. I think that's what made it hurt so much. Thinking, just for a little while, that she would live. We hadn't had nearly enough time with her and she was so young.
May she rest in peace, Our sweet Angel.
This was my first experience losing a pet. My doggy, Quincy, is getting older and probably only has a few good years left. I just can't imagine how hard that loss will be.
I'm very sorry to end this post with such a sad story. But I had to make a tribute to this sweet and loving girl who was such a joy in our lives, if only for a little while.