The writing assignment: Write about a time you had to put an animal to sleep…
Over the years I’ve lived with four cats.
One, I had as a child. He was a stray cat that our family took in. We called him Chief, until she had babies, then we renamed her Chief-asina, after the popular cat movie at the time (in the early 1960’s) Thomasina. I think she eventually ran away. I thought I saw her sitting in a neighbor’s window down the block once. But for some reason we didn’t pursue her.
The other three cats were a part of our lives when our two boys were young. The first cat was a black and white shorthair male. We named him Mittens. He was a cute black and white kitten with white paws. We bought him at an animal shelter. On the way home we asked the boys what we should name him. Mittens was chosen. After we got Mittens settled in his new home we sat down for dinner. When we were done eating our youngest said, “May I please be excused? I want to go pet Gloves!”
Although, Mittens was a well-groomed cat, he would not use the litter box. We tried all kinds of tricks and suggestions, short of bringing him to a cat psychiatrist (one of the suggestions). The animal shelter did not want him back either, so we had no choice but to put him to sleep. That was a hard decision, and one not made lightly. I do not remember how we told our boys.
Our second cat was a calico cat…a lovely mixture of gray and white and tan. We named him Cocoa. He did use the litter box, but he didn’t like to be inside. We wanted an indoor cat. Every time the door opened Cocoa flew through the air to get outside. This was a constant problem.
One day I was going to run some errands. As I backed the car out of the garage, I ran over something I thought was a toy. Little did I know Cocoa was out there, under the car, and I had run over him. It was traumatic. Gary was out of the country on business, but fortunately our neighbor came over and helped us dig a hole and bury our naughty, but loved, kitty in the back garden.
Our third, and last, cat was an orange, female tabby cat. I had heard orange female cats were usually gentle and calm, so back to the animal shelter we went. We found one there and brought her home. We named her Caramel Corn. She was a beautiful cat…the color of caramel corn. She was a good cat: she used the litter box, she liked being in the house…she didn’t even try to get out of the house when the doors were open.
She loved to sit among people. I would pull up a stool at the kitchen table where Caramel Corn would perch contently and listen in on our conversations around the table, no matter who was visiting. In the mornings she would jump on my lap to snuggle while I had my morning coffee and devotions, and we’d rock in the rocking chair. She was a wonderful kitty-cat that we had for twelve years. I missed her when she died.
In the meantime, we found out our son was allergic to cats so we could not invest in another cat. But that’s OK. We had a delightful one for a long time, and it would be hard to find another one like our beloved Caramel Corn.
While looking for my Steiff dog in the bassinet I was reminded of a story about our cat, Caramel Corn. She was a wonderful little kitty cat. She loved to be around people. A friend reminds me of the time she came over for coffee and we sat at our kitchen table and I pulled up a stool so Caramel Corn could jump up and sit there with us!
We loved Caramel Corn. She died in 2006 at the age of twelve.