My Best Friend Tigger

When my parents divorced when I was 10 years old, my life was in shambles. After the dust settled, as a 12 year old girl, I finally got to bring to our new home my first kitten. He was a tiny tabby, with this little meow.

His mother was owned by our neighbor and I watched her belly grow with excitement. My first kitty was growing in there. My friend had picked him out for me. I remember her telling me he was perfect for me. The first time I saw him he was maybe 2 weeks old. Just itty bitty and curled up with his brother and sister. The day we came to bring them home, my mom couldn't bear to leave just one behind... So we brought them all home.

He grew so fast. I remember one of the first days we had them, petting them as they were all curled up together in a kitten ball, just purring. I couldn't believe I finally had my very own kitty. He was so perfect.

As we grew together, we became best friends. The level of love I had for him is so deep, I can feel it in my bones. Every day, coming home to his boisterous meow and his big glorious purr were like music to me. Picking up his big body and he would wrap his paws around my shoulder and rub his face all over me. We were best friends.

Every night for 15 years, he slept right near and usually shared my pillow. Many times we woke up nose to nose. Laying in bed with him being lazy on weekend mornings was such a special time for us. He bonded so much with my husband and we always joked that he was more human than cat. He often spoke and sounded like he was saying "Mom" "Hello" and "Now!" I love him so much and thinking back on these memories brings me some peace through this deep dark pain of losing him.

Today is Friday.

Monday morning, I was awoken around 3:30 in the morning. I had my hand on Tigger, who I also called Pooh or Poohba. I don't know why. Something just felt wrong. 2 days before he'd woken me with heavy breathing, but after a terrible vet visit with not his regular vet, but this awful vet that was close she left me to believe he was dealing with asthma. Being an asthmatic myself, I got my nebulizer and gave him some Albuterol. By this point, my husband had been wakened as well. His breathing became more rapid. I stopped the nebulizer and was about to call the vet when he cried and collapsed. I panicked, I thought he had passed away. My husband touched him and he came back but was still breathing very heavy. I called my vet shaking at the thought that this could be the end, and he said Tigger was likely having heart failure and would pass away. The thought of having to sit and watch this cat who I loved so much suffer and die made me feel so helpless. After watching and sitting with him for an hour we decided to have the vet come to the house to help him pass. My mom and brother came as Tigger had become a huge part of their lives as well. Before I moved out on my own, Tigger was a part of their family. We all sat with him, telling stories and crying. The vet finally arrived after what seemed like hours and Tigger jumped off the bed, drank some water and even went downstairs to eat. He even came back upstairs on his own and jumped on the couch to visit the vet. Our vet was puzzled...

After some injections and reviewing the X-rays from the other vet, he figured Tigger would be fine and come out of this. With relief my mom and brother left. My husband and I curled up with Tigger in bed to take a nap. He jumped into the bed, visited with me, purred. Suddenly he cried and collapsed again. Not even 20 minutes after the vet had left. He was gasping, crying..... I called the vet and he started panting. We followed the vets instructions and tried some medications. He laid down on the floor, flat and rapidly breathing. I knew he was dying and I knew we needed to put him out of this suffering and fast. The vet suggested bringing him so that we could try intensive care... But I knew I was going to lose him. I regretted feeling like this after... Feeling like I gave up on him too soon. But I knew he wasn't coming back.

The vet evaluated him. Asked him why he didn't look like this when we were all at home... Gently tried a few different things and took his temperature. He was dying. He suggested euthanasia. I covered Pooh with my body and cried while saying goodbye to him. The day I never wanted to come was here. How could I live without this beautiful creature? How can I go on without him?

I always imagined that when you make the decision to euthanize an animal that time would stop. That the vet would get everything ready and there would be this long wait... There wasn't. The vet was ready before I was but I knew I would never truly be ready.

I wanted so much for his passing to be peaceful. It wasn't. He cried out while they injected him. I couldn't bear it... I kept my hand on him, I want him to know I was there. Then suddenly he was quiet. It was over. He was gone. He is for forever.

There aren't words for what I would do to have just moments with him. I would have sold my house and lived in a box if that would have been enough to save him. He was such an energy in our house. He was the king of our home... Our castle has lost it's king...

I always knew this would be hard. I knew I would cry and I knew it would be painful. What I did not imagine was the guilt, the second guessing, this desperate feeling to just find him somewhere in our home and bring him into bed to sleep with me. My body aches with the pain of knowing I will never get to feed him again. Hear his meow again. Hear him purr again. I'm trying to remember how grateful I am that he was a part of my life and lived so many happy years with me..... But I still need him. I don't want to learn to live without him.

My lap is empty when I get home. My side of the bed is empty and I can't sleep there anymore. I can't eat. I can't sleep without being medicated. My heart is empty and broken.

I miss him so much...