Were you scared, baby kitty? Your eyes looked so panicked. I could feel your little body shaking. I wanted to grab you from the vet table and run away with you; to protect you from the imminent death that awaited you. Those syringes full of liquid finality and destruction must have been so frightening for you. I am so sorry I couldn't protect you from the impatient death that arrived to tear you from us!
I wish that I had been more in tune with your subtle hints those weeks ago when you were surely trying to tell me and your "mama" that there was something wrong with you. I should've done my research instead of being so darn nonchalant and justifying your change in demeanor: "she's just getting older and needy." Foolish me. The sight of your tired, frail body laying there on that vet table will forever burn in my memory - as will seeing your "mama" cry like she did when you went to sleep and closed your eyes forever. Seeing your mama so wrecked really hurt, but it's not your fault. She mourned you, Caty, like she's never mourned anyone before. I love you and miss you, my Caty (Brady), unlike anything I could have imagined. Whenever someone passes away and leaves such pain and heartache behind, it's because they loved so selfishly and greatly and were loyal to a fault. Those were your qualities, my beautiful Caty. Those are the very qualities that make life wonderful, so when the world becomes delpeted of said qualities through a death, life becomes somewhat scary, bleak, and cold. Run around in heaven's grassy knolls, my sweet, beautiful Caty. Make sure you have your collar on with the cute bell, so your grandma Eva can find you and play with you. Love you, your "mon mere"!
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