Saying goodbye to Tabby

Tabby was depressed for about a week after his sibling died. He refused to go out on the porch, or in any other place where his sister would lounge. He was obviously in mourning for her. Finally he seemed to accept the fact that she would not be coming back, and he began to act a bit more like his old self again. I absentmindedly set a self-feeder down for him, and picked up the ceramic bowl that held his food. His ears went back, and he glanced into the living room, as if looking for his sister. It was then that I realized that he was telling me, "That isn't my food dish. Its hers.", and I realized that he was right. He prefered fresh food, while Sabrina enjoyed being able to nibble it whenever she wanted. Again I was reminded about how very smart cats can be.

Tabby continued to sit on the steps, and to greet the neighbors. A couple of them commented on his weight. He had always been lean, but he seemed a bit thinner. And yet, he ate his food and drank his water each day, and was his typical, friendly self. But perhaps a cat knows when it is his time to leave, more so than his owner does. One day when a neighbor asked me about him, tears filled my eyes, as I realized that he was probably going to leave soon, too. I watched him, to see if he was ever in any pain, and he wasn't... not until the last day. He was acting strangely, and I knew... I knew that it was time to put him down. Yet this time, I didn't know how I would be able to do it without sobbing, on the way there. I wanted to be with him, but I didn't want my son to have to see me weeping, and so I didn't ask him to take me. I borrowed a friend's car, and then the most amazing thing happened. Her granddaughter, only ten years old, asked me if she could accompany me to the vet hospital, rather than go to the movies with her grandmother. I asked, "You want to come with me, to put my cat down, rather than enjoying yourself at the movies?" Then what she said touched my heart, so deeply. This little girl had lost her mother, just a few months before, and so she understood how painful death could be. She said, "People were there for me, when my mother died, and so I would like to be there for you, too." Tears filled my eyes at her compassion, so amazing in one still so young. I realized then that God was answering my prayer. He was giving me the strength I needed, in order to stay with Tabby in his final hour, and to say goodbye to him. With the grandmother's permission, the little girl rode with me, though she remained in the waiting room, until it was over. Tabby remained calm. He seemed to realize that I, who had taken care of him from the time he was a tiny little thing, would stay with him through his final moments. He trusted me to care for him, and so I promised him, "Soon you will be asleep, and you won't be in any more pain. And you will be with your sister again." The vet came in, and was as kind to me as he had been a few months previously, with Sabrina. I gave Tabby one last hug, and he was gone. I walked out to the waiting area, and the little girl walked with me outside, and my tears flowed freely. She wrapped her arms around me, saying, "It will be okay, Robin. Tabby is in a better place." I knew that she was right. He was no longer in any pain, having lived his life to the fullest. He would no longer miss his sister. My beloved kitty, was at peace, wherever God takes the beloved animals who we have cared for. God had shown me, once again, that even through death, he would be there with me, and so I wouldn't have to grieve forever. Because when one knows and trusts God, there is always hope. And with the memories that he allows us to keep, there is always love to remember, with the furry creatures that God places in our lives. Tabby and Sabrina may be gone, but they will always and forever be in my heart.