My Love, Miss Squeekers,
I can still remember the wonderful, beautiful day that I adopted you nineteen years ago. I walked into the South Wood County Humane Society in Wisconsin Rapids, WI in November, 1999. I had just went through a painful divorce and little did I know that I would meet my true love that day. I met YOU! You were so tiny but SO loud with such a set of lungs, haha! Squeekers! A beautiful ginger girl with spunk and sass. Only three months old and you already knew everything! Or acted like it. You really wanted out of that cage though and your little arms reaching towards me knew I would be your Momma. I held you and felt instant love and connection. I decided to come back for you the next day to adopt you so I could set up my apartment for you. When I came back the next day, you were out of the cage (of course!) and following the janitor around, I think trying to help? 😉 He had to be careful of you! My Dad was visiting me at the time and he thought maybe you had gotten into something greasy because you had a tinge of gray in that ginger fur, but it was just unique you! You were special. You loved bouncing around by the one floor lamp I had at the time and you scared me later by hiding in between a couple of kitchen drawers. You had somehow found a small crawl space and once my Dad and I got you out, we blocked it. I loved calling you my little red-headed girl LOL. You also loved to just plop down quickly and roll over and show your cute belly and your front paws would come together like in prayer. You did this in all your years! A couple of years later, you and I moved down to Florida and you saw your first ‘palmetto’ bug. You didn’t like those stinky things and left them alone for Momma to handle. You also loved to come running down the stairs to greet me when I came home, just like a dog! You loved those tiny, little glitter balls, but only the small ones, not the larger ones. You would chew on them and spit them out LOL. You also loved licking on string, and any stick that had a string with a toy on the end, you didn’t want the toy, you just wanted Momma to hold it straight so you could lick the string. Silly girl. You loved to lay in your cat bed in my bedroom during the day to see some birdies out the windows and enjoy the southern sun. At night, most times, you loved to hang out with Momma and I think we both loved what I call our ‘sofa sessions.’ You were so loved by Momma and you knew it. You loved to sometimes wake Momma up at 3am or early morning just because you could! Well, you were awake so maybe Momma should be too? Over the years, as you aged, you did slow down, but still had wonderful energy. As a kitten, you had big, green eyes and fat puffy cheeks. You never lost that kitten face, even on the last day here on earth. I will miss our hide and seek days of past, you were so smart. You would find me when I went hiding and I made little squeaks and you knew what that meant. Then I would chase you and you ran away, LOL. And you helped me though my breast cancer journey and even got me to laugh a few times. Hehe. When it was time for you to cross the rainbow bridge, my heart broke and the sorrow was and is overwhelming. But I made a promise from the very beginning to help and protect you and I was not going to let you suffer any more pain or not to hear Momma’s voice reassuring you it was OK for you to leave when it was time. As the nice Dr came into our home, you looked up from your cat bed on the sofa and I think you felt peace. You looked calm and ready to go. As the sedative, and then finally the other shot entered, I held onto your paw and face kissing you and telling you it was OK to let go and that I loved you forever. You stayed calm, eyes ahead on me, but down. You knew Momma said it was OK and I heard your last breaths let go. I told you that it was your time and no one would ever replace you. You will never be forgotten, my angel and you helped Momma for so many years. Run free over the Rainbow Bridge, Squeekers, I will meet you there one glorious day, my love. That will be the best day.