I held her in my arms. Her last sight on earth was my face.
She was never really mine, but I was hers.
Working in the yard one day, a little kitty came to visit. I brought her food and she visited more. She ate and ate and ate. Her meow was full and mighty. A smart kitty, she found my window in the morning and woke me up for her feeding. She had a collar, but no tags. No signs of someone missing a kitty like her.
That was seven years ago.
A storm came to visit. Kitty camped out on our patio, tucked away safely in a corner.
Another cat came to visit late one night. I heard a cat fight and rushed out to check if kitty was okay, being that she was so small. What I found was little kitty beating up the fat cat, chasing it away. Kitty was small, but she had a lot of fight in her. She was defending her territory.
And she ate.
I named her “Megamouth”. I thought it fitting for a little kitty who ate a lot and had a roar of a meow. Even her purr was loud.
We took Megamouth to the vet. She had no I.D. chip either. She was healthy.
We brought her inside and she found her way around. The two cats didn’t take a liking to Megamouth, but they left her alone as long as she left their things alone.
Mega loved sneaking under the sheets, finding new ways to crawl into my bed, stubborn and protesting as I would come to chase her out. She squeezed herself into the smallest of spaces in my closet. She made her bed in the sock drawer if it was left open just a crack.
And she ate.
Years later, we would find out that Megamouth had an allergy to fleas. One flea bite and she would be itchy scratchy and very uncomfortable. We took her to the vet and got her cleaned up and powered up to keep away the fleas.
Megamouth became my little nap buddy. She would fuss if I picked her up, protesting but not getting anywhere as she remained so skinny. But lie down for a nap, and she was right next to me, pushing her small body up against mine, making sure she was comfortable.
One night, I noticed that she was fussier than ever, more stand-offish than ever. She was gasping to breathe. She wouldn’t eat or drink. She fought off sleep.
I took her to the doctor. And then I had to take her to another doctor.
Her lungs were filled with fluid. We could make her more comfortable, but it looks like cancer that would take her quickly.
Dad cried. I tried not to cry in front of Megamouth but who was I kidding. It was the toughest decision of my life.
I held her in my arms. She looked up at me and took her last breath. It all happened so quickly, and she was gone.
It was February 10th, 2014. A Monday. The staff of the VCA Animal Hospital in Waipahu were so kind and caring to Megamouth and our family. They went beyond what I had thought about animal care, sending a handmade card that included warm sympathies, a tuft of Mega’s soft fur sealed in a pouch, and prints of two of her paws. I highly recommend the VCA Animal Hospital.
We brought her ashes home.
She was never really mine, but I am hers.
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