All Cats Go to Heaven

As the clocks turned back early this morning, God gave me another angel. My sweet cat Missy of sixteen years now joins my mom.

Missy was old and within the past few weeks, I just knew she wasn't doing well. Her weight plummeted. She was barely eating and spent most of her time with her head on the water bowl. I had noticed her labored breathing and Friday night saw that it had gotten worse. She seemed desperate for air as she had to start opening her mouth for oxygen. She seemed better the next morning.

But Saturday night, I got home and took one look at her. She wasn't okay. Her tongue was hanging out of her mouth as she gasped for air. I could see it in her eyes. I laid there on the floor with her, not knowing what to do, feeling helpless. In all honesty, I thought she might die there in my arms as I cried.

After rushing her to the pet emergency room, the vet confirmed that Missy was in critical condition and that her prognosis would not be good. X-Rays showed a large amount of fluid surrounding her lungs and after looking at the fluid, the doctor predicted this was heart disease leading to congestive heart failure.

My heart ached. I picked Missy out of her litter when I was in fifth grade after years and years of begging for a kitten. She was my little girl and was there through all phases of my life. I always feared the day when I'd have to say goodbye. And there I was, at 2:00am in the emergency room with my cat hooked up to oxygen, knowing that in mere minutes I'd have to say goodbye.

I sat there on the cold surface, listening to a dog whimper in the back room, being faced with the reality of death again this year. The reality of how quickly such a big part of your life can be taken.

"Say your last goodbyes."

The absolute worst phrase that can be said in your lifetime. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, as difficult as that. Those last moments.

Nothing will replace Missy.

Finding her in the silliest places as a baby kitten.

The mornings I'd wake up to her "making biscuits" on my back.

The loud rumble that I'd hear as she purred next to me.

Turning around to see her doing "the squirrel."

Being total goofballs together.

Our sweet "see you laters" when I'd cry at the thought of being without her...

But most of all, I'll just miss Missy. My sweet, little kitty.