OK here goes.
My cat's name was Harley and he was a gray and black tiger kitty (tabby). We somehow got his name "Harley" mixed up with "Marley" (as in Bob) and so Harley became Harley-man (with a Jamaican accent). He would have been 17 years old this June, and so as I'm sure you pet lovers can understand, saying goodbye to him was extremely painful.
He used up his 9 lives long ago and had been living on borrowed time for the past few years. He survived many run-ins with several neighbor cats, one being Harley's "old man" as my husband called him, and other run-ins with wild animals. He was stitched up more than once by the vet, but the vet could never get a heart beat because he was always purring too loudly. I guess you could say he had a big heart.
He was an indoor/outdoor cat, preferring to stay indoors in the winter about 90% of the time, and indoors in the summer about 10% of the time. (smart too). He loved to curl up on our laps and just sleep and purr and be petted. He took turns sleeping with the kids in their beds. He seemed to know which member of the family needed his comfort most, and that was usually who you found him curled up with.
We only had a litter box in the house if we had to leave him for a weekend. He was very low maintenance, and almost too good to be true. He was a fixture at our house, and now that he's gone, I see him everywhere--sitting on the patio waiting to be let in, walking through the hallway looking for one of us. I hear his meows, and miss his scratching on bathroom or bedroom door wanting in. Sometimes I even see his little paw slipping under the door as if that would make it miraculously open.
Harley left the earth on April 3rd. He had developed a tumor on his right hip, which grew quite large over the past 6 month. The lab said it was benign, but the vet disagreed. We waited and hoped. On the evening of 4/2 upon my return home from work, he was limping badly, and I can only guess that he either had injured himself somehow and broken a bone, or that he had cancer after all and it had gotten into his bones. There was no choice left for us now, as he was in pain.
My children were each able to spend time with Harley that evening, loving and soothing him. Harley slept in bed between myself and my daughter that night (kicked husband out into spare bedroom). He slept and purred, slept and purred, throughout the night. In the morning, we put Harley into bed with my son so they could spend some private time together. Then the goodbyes as the kids left for school that morning.
My husband and I both took off work and together took our beloved friend to the vet to be put to sleep. I held Harley in my arms as he drifted off to sleep forever, his fur dampened by my tears. My "tough guy" husband dissolved into a weeping child. It was a terrible, terrible moment and one of the hardest things I have ever done.
We received a sympathy card from the vet 2 days later, and in it was a beautifuly written article. Here is the link for those of you who wish to read:
http://www.petloss.com/poems/maingrp/rainbowb.htm It helped alot and I hope it will help some of you too should you ever need it.
Harley is buried in our back yard under a lilac tree. He has his favorite afghan around him, a photo of the kids, and a note from me. There are daylillies, poppies and other perrenials sprouting now, and we plan on surrounding his grave with even more beautiful flowers. There is a bluebird house nearby.
And so in closing, I want to again thank you all for your heartfelt words. I know Harley was "just a cat" and in the wake of the VA Tech massacre and the daily accounts of soldiers dying in Iraq, it may seem silly to be so upset over an animal, but the pain is real and I loved Harley very much. Thank you, my friends, for caring and for understanding.
[ April 19, 2007, 14:53: Message edited by: Gitchigumee ]
