Today, I had to do one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life.
In late 2003, Mary and I picked up the cutest little seal point/tabby mix from the pet store. We named her Lily. She was very shy. Throughout her young kittenhood she slowly became more personable... To me. She didn't seem to take to anyone or anything else. After she inexplicably ruined a couch by urinating heavily upon it, we took it upon ourselves to keep her a little more secluded. She still seemed very happy and was in our bedroom at night.
She always liked to sleep between my ankles. She would be anywhere in the apartment, but when bedtime rolled around, you would find her right between my ankles.
About 18 months ago, we took in a stray. A solid grey social/lap cat. Callie. Several days after we took her in, we discovered she was brewing a litter. She had 6 kittens. We kept one grey one with copper mixed in. Macy Grey.
Lily simply would not get along with these two and was adversarial from the get-go. Thus, we had to keep them in separate areas of the apartment.
When we found our current apartment, we could not pass up the space for the price. As we were filling out the paperwork, I ran across a pet stipulation. We thought we may circumvent it, though.
This apartment was separated in a very different way than the last apartment, and that brought on a very difficult decision. Lily had to stay in one of the bathrooms. I felt terrible. She was completely cut off from contact. Where she was used to sleeping with us at night, now she slept alone. Where she would at least have some interaction with us during the day, she saw me in the morning for feeding and litter cleaning. I felt horrible on top of terrible.
This week brought apartment inspections. We were not able to circumvent. We had to get rid of at least one cat. Yes, that ripping, crashing sound is the sound of my heart breaking.
Given the fact that Lily was only attached to me and would not play well with the other two cats, and given the fact that the other two cats are very social and playful and are lap cats, Lily was the unfortunate choice.
After five and a half years, it was time for Lily to go. I would rather have been stabbed. In desperation, I started a search for a no-kill animal shelter in the area. Knowing full well that space for cats in these places is something beyond limited, usually stretched. I found a shelter and emailed them my situation, at 2:00 this morning, ending it with a single word, 'Help.'
Miraculously, during the morning, someone from the shelter emailed me back to let me know that they had space for ONE kitty. I cried. At work.
They needed medical history and up to date shots. I had to schedule a vet appointment TODAY for her vaccinations. When I called, the receptionist recognized me. I told her my story. She finagled some things and got me a 5 o'clock appointment. After I arrived, they rushed her right in for the exam and vaccinations. On my way out, the receptionist told me that the shelter I'd found was a good one.
Me: "It's still tough."
Her: "At least you're doing the right thing, instead of just dumping her somewhere."
We drove down to the shelter and pulled up to the front. (Here it comes.) I got out of the car and got Lily, in her carrier, out, too. We walked in and started the paperwork. I felt like I was doing okay so far. Then, as we were filling out forms, a guy came by and picked up the carrier. As he started to walk by, he stopped and asked us if we wanted to say goodbye. I peered into the cage at Lily and stuck my fingers through the bars. She looked at my hand and didn't move. I broke. The tears began rolling and I told him that we were okay. He took her back and the lady that was working with us stepped away to get a print out.
I simply could not hold it back any longer. I let the tears flow. It exhausted me instantly and I felt my head fall into my hands. Mary leaned over and hugged me as I was completely unable to stop the tears.
The lady returned and we finished up the paperwork. The other man came back with the empty carrier. I thought I was going to lose it again, but I maintained myself. We finished up and were given well wishes and the man said, "I'm sorry it didn't work out." It seemed so genuine, the tears started again, but I gave him a smile and a nod and rushed out the door.
I put the empty carrier in the car and Mary rushed in and gave me a huge hug. And she held on. I could feel her shaking as she, too, cried with me. After a couple minutes, she got in the car and I rounded to the driver side and seated myself. As soon as I closed the door, the dams were let loose. I absolutely bawled (look it up on m-w.com). The moaning, groaning, bent over, head in my hands, faucets for eyes, gut-wrenching cry. I groaned and 'Oh God'd for several minutes. I cried so hard, my body ached.
After that, I wanted to 'get away', so we went and had a great dinner and came home. For a while, I was distracted with the normal things I do on the internet day-to-day. But I just got myself a glass of water. As I was headed back to the office, I passed the bathroom where Lily was being kept. I felt compelled to write this exhastive blog post.
I am normally not a selfish person or an attention grabber, but this time, I am in GREAT pain, and I want everyone to know it. The one thing that is really keeping me going is that Mary is right here beside me, and every time I have started to break down, she has not just offered her shoulder to cry on, she has put my head there and held me; knowing that I am simply too weak.
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