|Posted on July 11, 2015 at 3:35 PM|
Wendy was an approximately 9 month old kitty cat. She was born into our household and abandoned by her mother. She became one of the two litters we were bottle feeding at the time. My son and I bonded over sharing her feedings.
One day, she began to get diarrhea. This began her long string of visits back and forth to the vet. She was put on antibiotics, would get better, be great for a few weeks, and then go down hill again. This cycle was repeated.
One day the kids found her very weak and unresponsive. We really thought we were going to lose her that day. My son placed his good luck charm in her bed with her. Then he, his twin sister, and I all prayed to the higher powers that be, and to their biological mother who passed away some time ago. We prayed for her to be healed and happy.
Within two hours, she was running around and playing like she had never been sick. We added the twin's biological mother's name, and Wendy became Wendy Becca.
This was only one time of several that she pulled herself back from the brink of death. She loved us. She loved life. She was a beautiful soul. She was my Warrior Wendy Becca.
The vet told us that she had a genetic malformation in her intestines. We went through trial and error with different medications. Different foods. Different vets. Wendy had rapidly become the center of attention.
Finally with the right foods, honey for her blood sugar, and lots of love, Wendy finally began to start gaining weight and looking more healthy. We were all beginning to breathe a little bit. Like we could finally count on her being on the road to health.
A few days ago, she quit eating and began to throw up. Her stools were hard. This was new. On her second day of this, I began trying to give her pedialyte and things she could hold down. That night, she slept on my chest all night. She pured and cuddled with me,and I gave her soft kisses on her forehead and that adorable little nose. In my heart, I knew that the time we had left seemed to be slipping away.
She was losing weight, in just a few days she had already lost most of the weight she had gained. That morning when we awoke, she held down some pedialyte and soft food mixture for me. She gazed into my eyes, and I knew she needed to make another trip to the vet. So we loaded her up.
The ride to the vet will forever be burned into my memory. She wrapped her paw around my finger, and she rubbed her head against me, and she purred the most beautiful purr a cat has ever purred. Looking back on it now, I believe she was telling me good bye.
The vet said it was probably time to put her to sleep. He did not believe she would recover from her condition this time. I asked him if he had ever been wrong. He said of course he had been.
I expressed that I had seen her in much worse shape than that, and surprise us all. I could not make that choice for her. I could not play God. I could not be what ended the fight of such a warrior. I pleaded with another way. He said he could treat her with antibiotics and send her home on an oral force feeding schedule. This I could live with.
He began to explain though, if she did pull through this, just what "fixing" her would pertain to. Thousands of dollars, specialist, surgeries, and still no guarantee that she would survive... that he held little hope for her survival. Wendy watched him the whole time he explained this to me. Her eyes open, alert, and I swear she understood what he was saying. And I believe it was in that moment that she decided that this body would not be the one best suited for her.
When the Vet went to go get her medicine, I held her and told her that I would help her live, but that I could not help her die. If she needed to go, that she could go. But it had to be on her own choice. and I told her how much I loved her.
The vet returned with her oral antibiotic, and just as he administered it, Wendy began to gasp, she had decided to leave this world, that it would be too much. We held her until her last breath. She made her choice. It broke my heart.
That night, I took a shower and I broke down. Wendy came to me. She told me that she was going to return to me in another form. She made me understand that she wants to live. Not in a body that is sickly. Rather in a body that can experience the true wonders of this life. She showed me the image of what she will look like when she returns. And I know that I will recognize her in her eyes.
Wendy Becca had such a short time on this earth. But the time she spent with me taught me so much. She taught me to never give up on yourself, even with others already have. She taught me that there are miracles in this world still taking place every day. And she taught me that even if you have to give up. To take a break. That life is never ending. That even an ending can be a new beginning.
I love you Baby Wendy. I really do not know what to do with out you. I impatiently await the moment you are returned to me, and look forward to sharing your life with you again.
RIP my Angel 7-10-15