Mawmee hunted n hunted fur a song dat waz like Spunky's message to hur. Weze found a song by Third Day on YouTube...See Spunky camed into Mawmees life when she was furry depressed n Spunky saved hur cuz she had hims to focus on. Dat was a furry miracle dat hims lived.
Ize miss Spunky n gotted scairt when he wents ovur da Bridge. Mawmee smelt funnee. I dont likes dat kittees goh bye n bye n dont comes bak. I thot I waz next or sumpin... Ize gotted scairt when Baby n Sandy went bye bye, too.
Ize okay now wif dat. I luvs Mawmee but Ize part feral n dont like tings changin n I dont likes bein picked up. Bootsie n Daisy deys cuddlin togever on da bed wher Spunky used ta sleep. Mousie is in her box. Ize goin sleepy in Mawmees lap soh she gonna finish dis here Memorial.
Luv, Katie Too.
Yes... Katie is my loner cat. She likes playing with Bootsie and sometimes with Daisy, but her only cuddle place is in my lap. She used to play with Spunky. They would chase each other through the house! It was a funny sight to see an eighteen year old cat acting like a little boy. Kept him excercising.
But his 19th year wasn't a very good one for him. He would fight me to take his Arthritis meds and he had developed a heart murmer. I hated stressing him out to give him what he needed. He may have lived longer or may have had a heart attack sooner, I don't know. I do know he would look at me with far away eyes, as if asking me to let him go "home." He stayed on the bed except to get water or to go "potty." I fed him on the bed. He would cuddle with me and lick my face.
About three weeks ago, Spunky started pulling his hair out. I took him to the vet. The blood tests showed high white blood cell count. Dr. Johnson thought it might be allergies, because his tests were all normal for his age. We gave him his arthrogen and he started to feel better and his hair grew back.
Then a week ago Friday, Spunky decided to stop eating. I gave him his arthrogen, hoping he would feel better later in the day. I was scheduled to volunteer at the Tall Grass Film Festival, but my mind was on Spunky. And it showed. I distracted everyone else, except the venue manager who seemed to know something was up and just took it in stride. I apologized and he laughed with me about this wasn't "rocket science!" Still the volunteer coordinator wasn't happy with me and didn't want me volunteering Saturday, but I could still see the films for free.
Saturday morning, I took Spunky to the vet and they gave him an anti-biotic and an appetite stimulant. Upon arriving back home, I sat the carrier on the bed. I went to turn on my computer and I heard Spunky moaning. I ran back to the bedroom and took him out of the carrier. He was breathing so hard and gasping for breath. I called the vets and told them that Spunky was dying in my arms. I wrapped him up in the fleece blanket and held his head up. When his breathing calmed, there was a purring growl in his throat. The stroke took alot out on his little body. He could still see out of one eye while I held him close, helping him breath. His heart still beat shallowly while I prayed.
The furry miracle in his passing is that when in my spirit, while I prayed - the very moment I handed him over to God, was the very moment that he passed on. Mike, my very best friend (and co-producer) came over and drove us to the clinic, while I held him, wrapped in a black fleece blanket.
Indian Hills Animal Clinic is a wonderful place. They gave us privacy while I held Spunky, waiting for Pet Traditions to arrive and take my Boo Bear to be cremated. I prayed the Kaddish over him, the Jewish mourners prayer, something Mike wasn't used to hearing. Mike's face was so contemplative and prayerful the whole time I sang.
When the lady from Pet Traditions came, I layed Spunky in the coffin, wrapped in his blanket. He looked so peaceful. I tearfully talked about his nose and how he inspired me to create a drawing of a lion guarding a rose.
And I said, "Spunky gave me hope when he was born and now somehow he is giving me the same message in his death."
And I said, "Spunky gave me hope when he was born and now somehow he is giving me the same message in his death."
It was several hours before I could bring myself to walk back into my house. Yet when I did, I softly heard Spunky say my name, "Katrin!.... I sorry."
"It's okay, Spunky. I'll see you later, Boo Bear." A peacefulness came over me... and Spunky leaped over the bridge.
Our babies are God's furry messengers... Spunky's message of hope needs to be shared... Below is Third Day's Song... and Now it's Spunky's song, too.
L'Chaim (to Life!!)
Kat-Renée Kittel
Third Day – Tunnel
