A post from 1997
My Ribby is dead. When I look at a picture of him, smiling at me through half closed eyes, I see contentment and love. My kitty loved me completely. I was his whole world. And I loved him. He was my comfort. Ribbons trusted me completely. Even Friday afternoon when I whisked him from the warm dark corner of my armoire to swiftly carry him downstairs to his cat carrier. He entered without protest and drove to the doctor's office in silence. I think he knew what a sick kitty he was even when I did not. I began to suspect when he didn't want to explore the doctors examining room. Instead he curled back up in the carrier. He made himself difficult to remove from the carrier.
Dr. Crafts lifted him out. Dr. Crafts thought Ribbons looked pale and felt a mass in his tummy which was giving Ribbons discomfort when the doctor touched it. Dr. Crafts said something was definitely not right and kept Ribs in the hospital for X-rays and blood work.
This was 2:30 pm Jan 3 1997.
I kissed Ribbons on his soft little head, told him that I loved him and that I would see him later. At that time I suspected I might not see him him later, but saying I would gave me hope that it would come true. About 3:45 Dr. Crafts called me at home. Should I have stayed with Ribbons? Ribbon's X-rays showed a tumor. Dr. Crafts suggested exploratory surgery. I agreed. He said that he would know right away in surgery if it was an isolated tumor that could be removed easily or something more. I went to the grocery store and when I returned at 5:15 there was a message to call Dr. Crafts as soon as possible. I should not have shopped. I should have sat at home and waited for the call that I hoped would not come.
Ribbons had a tumor the size of an egg in his intestines and tumors in both kidneys. He had lymphoma---a devastating cancer. I gave my consent to administer the drug to put my baby to sleep. I never saw him again. I requested a group burial. Should I has requested a private burial since Ribbons was a private kitty? I think it matters little what happens to his sweet stripey yellow furry body. I didn't want to see him dead. I want to remember him alive. I look at his picture and can feel his little arm which he would retract as I ran my finger down it. I know the length of his back, how long it takes to run my hand down the length of it. His tail - how I would pet it to the end, then hold on while he flicked it out of my hand. The sweet way he would put his paws on my thigh with some unspoken request. The softest fur in the world behind his always clean pink see-through ears. His chirp in the morning. "Are you getting up now?"
My Ribby - I have nine years of memories of you. They may fade some over the years but they can never be taken from me completely.
Ribbons...I hope I think of you often. I miss you so now. I hope you enjoyed your life. I know you enriched mine and filled it with your love.
I write today...
Ribbons was a special little cat. Now I have another special little cat, Smudge, who will be celebrating his 15th birthday on February 18th. All cats, of course, are alike in many ways. After all, they are cats. But each is unique and special with their own little personality.
