It has been a year since I had to say goodbye my furry daughter, Boo. We spent almost 17 years together. How I wish that our time together was longer. You are always are part of me. We went through so much together. I miss you each and every day. Letting you go was the best that I could do for you in your condition with the cancer you had endured. What breaks my heart the most is that I know exactly what you were going through. Most pet parents don’t know that, my love. I endured cancer myself. You and Batman were my furry nurses during mine. You never cried out in pain but I know that you felt it. You continued to do your best to be there for me despite what you were going through.
I remember the day we went to go look for you at the Humane Society. It had been several weeks since cancer had claimed Cuddles. I was still living with my parents at the time. Their house was so empty without a furry child in it. It was a spring afternoon in March of 1997. We walked into the caged area where all the kittens were housed. I looked everywhere and just none of them seemed to be really interested in me. I became depressed a bit and I sat down. I saw my mother playing with a grey and black striped tabby that had white feet. Then I looked down and there you were, just this little ball of fluff. You had such wonderful coloring with the orange, black, and tan. Your big eyes just staring up at me as if saying, “I want you to be my momma”. I picked you up and I saw this upside down horseshoe shape under your chin. You starting purring. You head bopped my hand. It was love at first sight. I was almost 27 years old but I stood up, walked over to my parents holding you. I said in a kiddish voice, “Can I have this one?” My father said it was fine as long as I paid for your adoption fee. My mother wasn’t as thrilled about the idea of two cats in the house. However, she couldn’t resist seeing the two of us together.
I adopted you on the spot. I gave you the name of Trooper Bear because you were black and tan. I was a State Trooper that drove a black and tan patrol car. My mother named the tabby, Chelsea. I remember that first night that I slept like a baby holding you in one hand and Chelsea in the other. You claimed my mother as your watcher while I was gone at work. However, once I was home, you came with me wherever I went. Chelsea was always the greeter at the door. You two would play together and run around. Such fun it was to watch the two of you play.
We moved out in 2001 and it was just us until Batman came into our lives in 2010. We went through many changes throughout that time on our own. We became quite fond of our little routines. You were so adjusting to my changing shifts every four weeks while I was a State Trooper. You simply slept when I did. You were always my live teddy bear in bed. You never meowed that much but when you did, I had better listen. I always knew what you were thinking just by your looks. I so terribly miss your minky fur. I always would grab ahold of it as I fell asleep. You loved to have me hold you and you just purred me right to sleep.
I am so grateful that you adopted Batman as your little brother for the time that you two were together. You took good care of him while I was at work. I think he really needed that. He has stepped up this past year and does you proud by taking care of me. We both miss you so much. I could not have made it through some of the hard times in my life without your love, sweetheart. I am forever grateful for that unconditional love that we had.
I knew when you started getting really sick there at the end that I had to make the hardest decision in my life. I was present for when my Mom had to tell Chelsea goodbye in January of 2007. That was hard to watch her go through that. I was already prepared to make that decision if what I had suspected was true. I would not let you suffer. I still remember letting you fall asleep in my hand as I held your fur in the other. I am so thankful that I was the last thing that you saw. I wasn’t there when Cuddles or any other of my cats passed away. I was able to say goodbye. I had you cremated and you are on the shelf in my bedroom. Your favorite frog toy sits on your box. I pat your box when I go by. The house was not the same for those few days as I waited for your box to be done. Once you were home, I felt at peace.