and saying "Good-bye"

2 weeks before Jeremy and I were married (7 years ago, 8 in April), we brought home a goofy, gray, cross-eyed, lanky kitten. He was 8 weeks old, newly neutered with a white face of the SOFTest fur. He had a gray smudge on his nose and his chin. It looked like someone had smeared paint on his face.

His name, Brady, after the QB from U of M - now the New England Patriots - Tom Brady.

He was my cat. My first real pet. That Edna couldn't give away.

We were packing for the Bahamas, for the wedding and I had to keep pulling the little snot out of my suitcase! I remember that whole week we were gone, I was worried about our new kitten being home without any grown-ups.

Brady was never a lap cat. He liked to rub against your feet or have his back scratched right above his tail. He waited for me outside the shower every morning to lick the water from my feet. I'd wake up to him sleeping in the crook of my knees and he'd jump down and wait for me to go into the bathroom. He'd mew (loud and annoying) until he was given a piece of toilet paper - to eat.

A few months ago, Brady stopped meeting me in the bathroom. He stopped sleeping in my bed. He started peeing in our basement and we knew something was wrong. We took him to the vet for a sleepover and she found crystals in his urine, meaning he has urinary tract problems. We gave him the medicines prescribed and Brady became VIOLENTLY ill! Throwing up, constantly. We stopped the meds. I bought a cat drinking fountain to give him fresh, clean water. We changed to wet food and a dry food designed to promote urinary tract health. We cleaned the basement and the litter boxes and that cat - he went right to my clean floor and he PEED!

Jeremy and I discussed options for Brady. The vet said there was nothing else she could do. We knew to take him to a shelter, they would eventually put him down. We knew we couldn't give him to someone else - who wants a peeing cat? We knew we couldn't send him to a farm as he's always been an indoor cat, he's declawed for Pete's sake!

Tuesday, October 20, 2009. I took this last picture of my cat.

I packed him in his carrier and Jeremy drove us to the vet's office. I hadn't planned to go in but, I couldn't leave him there alone. I knelt on the floor while my cat lay on the cold metal table. They gave him an injection to calm him and he put his head down with his tongue sticking out. The vet came back to give Brady the lethal dose and I sat with my cat, petting his head, bawling giant tears and apologizing to him for my failure to make him better. They left us alone with him while he died. The vet's assistant popped back with a box of Kleenex for me.

The vet came back a few minutes later with a stethoscope, checked Brady's heart and said, "He's gone.", I cried even harder and I couldn't leave him. Finally, Jeremy said, "It's time to go, honey, he's gone". We left the room and left my cat there alone and dead. I looked back as we walked out and I cried harder for Brady, to have to leave him there, alone. I shouldn't have looked back as all I can see is my cat - dead, on that table.

My house seems empty now that Brady is gone. Woody, my other cat, still cries for him so he can eat - Brady always ate first. Brady used the box first. Brady did everything first and Woody had to wait. I keep listening for his 19 lb. body thumping up the stairs but, he doesn't come.

I try not to think of what happened to Brady after we left the vet office. How the vet 'disposed' of him. We couldn't bury him at home (our house is built on an old cement dump and we can't dig that deep). I didn't want ashes. Maybe I don't want to know.

Jacob came into the bathroom this morning and told me that Brady died and he's in kitty heaven. I hope Brady's spirit is happy in kitty heaven. I hope he's chasing rubber bands and eating toilet paper. I wish he was still home, with me. I sure miss him!