In 1980, I saw a piece of paper on a bulletin board in the corner store that said "free kittens". I called the telephone number on that piece of paper and made an appointment with the owner to view them. I was led downstairs to the family room and was asked to sit on the couch while the kittens were brought out to see me.
First the mother cat came by to look at me. Then a little kitten came by and jumped up to sit on my lap. Right away, I said this is the one I want. The owner and I talked for a few minutes. During that time, the little kitten jumped off my lap and went to see her mother. Together, the two walked out of the room. I thought... momma is going to tell her little one that she is going to a new home and to be a good girl. Not long after, I left that house, carrying that little kitten in my arms.
I held her tight, as we were walking down a busy street. I don't know what happened, but the kitten jumped out of my arms and fell to the ground - on her head. I felt terrible; I picked her up, held her even tighter and continued the walk home.
Two days later, I had to go to work. I worried about leaving the little kitten all alone all day, but there was nothing I could do about it. When I came home, I heard the kitten crying her heart out. Where are you? I'm alone, and I'm afraid. She was so happy to see me. Gradually, she became used to being alone during the days.
As the days passed, I tried to think of a suitable name for my new pet. As I got to know her, to see her personality, a name came to me. Jenny. She would be named after an 8 year old girl I used to babysit two years before. Jenny was a precocious little girl - full of fun and mischief. The same as my new pet.
Jenny was my little baby. She was very affectionate and needed lots of attention in return. And generally in good health. But as the years went by, I became more involved with my career. I would come home tired and cranky. Jenny would come to greet me at the door, wanting attention. I just wanted to be left alone, and I yelled at her. I'm so sorry Jenny for being so mean to you. I never meant it, and I never realized that I would come to regret it so much.
Jenny became ill in November 1995. She wouldn't eat. She was diagnosed with liver failure, but the vet was not sure if the liver failed because she would not eat, or if she would not eat because the liver failed. If I could get her to eat enough by syringe feeding her, maybe the liver would recover. I tried for two weeks - syringe feeding my poor Jenny. After one week, she would just spit the food back out. It was a struggle just to get her to swallow. On her next visit to the vet, I was told she had a growth in her abdomen. The vet did not know what it was. We did a Barium series, and determined that the growth was on the outside of an organ. The vet suggested exploratory surgery, and by the way, while we're at it, we can install a tube through her side directly into her stomach so that I could syringe feed into the stomach instead of by the mouth. I decided not to subject Jenny to the surgery or the tube installation.
That night, I agonized over what I should do. Continue with syringe feeding, when Jenny so obviously did not want me to, or put her to sleep? That night, Jenny came to sleep with me. I think she sensed what was about to happen. The next day, I agonized some more over my decision. The decision to put Jenny to sleep was the hardest decision I ever had to make, but when I finally made it, the burden was lifted, but only slightly.
Jenny was euthanized by injection. Her body was left with the vet for burial. To this day, I feel that I could have done more for her. I wish now that I had not left her body with the vet, because now, I don't know where she is, or that she was handled with care. I feel like I threw her away.
I feel this way today, because just three days ago, I lost another cat, Tasha (who I received two years after Jenny), to chronic kidney failure. Tasha died peacefully at home with me, just the way I wanted her to. I knew that Tasha was dying, and so was given the opportunity to do it right. I wish that I could be given the same chance again for Jenny. To show her how much I really loved her.
Jenny, you were very special to me because you were my first cat. You were so loving and forgiving with me. I hope you know just how much I love and miss you. And I hope that you can forgive me once again. Please wait for me at the Rainbow Bridge.
Your mom
Linda