Sophie is the bold, fun, amusing one (and Michaels favorite cat ever, or so he says); Tommy is the charity case who came in through a broken window during a storm and then refused to leave us; Chamberlain is the fulfillment of the responsibility and bond we both feel to the life we saved, and truly Matties cat (playmate, snuggle buddy, and bedmate). But Sasha...Sasha is mine. She was mine before I met Michael, maybe even before I knew I was taking her home. I sat down in a room full of kittens, wanting only to play with them for a bit before walking home. They were rambunctious and wild, all claws and clumsiness, except for one. She was grey from the tips of her ears to the last hair on her tail, with green eyes. She didnt play at all: instead, she looked at me from across the room, walked over, curled up in my lap, and purred herself to sleep. Later, as I tried to get up to leave, she dug her claws into my pants so tenaciously that I had to extract each one by hand...but by that point the decision to bring her home was already made, without any thought whatsoever. That first night she cried for an hour, looking all over my apartment for her littermates or mother, but eventually found her way to my bed. Within minutes shed burrowed under the blankets and curled up against my stomach, purring wildly while I stroked her chin and cheeks. From that moment on she was mine and I was hers. She quickly developed her own personality and habits - pawing at closed doors because she preferred open access to the entirety of my tiny apartment, sleeping under the covers with me at night but sitting up like a tiny human in my recliner during the day, patting my eyelids with her paws in the morning to wake me up to feed her...she grew into a unique and amazing little being before my eyes, and I was irrevocably in love. Shes been with me through boyfriends and breakups, through college and graduation, through two apartments, through the chaos of buying our first home, through marriage and pregnancy and having a baby, and to our new home. Through the deaths of loved ones, a miscarriage, and the chaotic addition of each of our other animal friends. Every meaningful moment of my life after high school graduation has included, in one way or another, Sasha, Maus, my Mauser. As much as shes lived with great love and care, shes also suffered. I was willing to do anything for her when she was diagnosed with FLPS, and we took out a loan to pay for the cost of her surgery and treatment. I was there when she woke up from the anesthesia and for days after, feeding her soupy wet food and pain medication one teaspoon at a time. Otherwise though, all Ive ever done is give her food and water, and my arms to play with and cuddle. And of course, Ive given her my heart. Our relationship has been an imbalanced one for the past eight years, with Maus giving me so much and asking for so little in return. Now its my turn to give, and despite my fiercely wishing it were otherwise I cannot give her health or happiness anymore. All I can give her is my utmost compassion, my complete love, and a comfortable death at home - I can do no less for the cat that held my heart from the very first time we touched. Would that I could give her so much more.
Posted on: Wed, 06 Aug 2014 17:53:23 +0000
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