Ginger, My Precious

I've owned cats all my life but none as special as Ginger. My neighbor gave her to me and my housemates because he no longer had time to care for her. Ginger had a choice of 6 people in the house and she chose me. For this, I tried to give her the best life I possibly could.

Ginger loved going outdoors. She was a stray before my neighbor rescued her; nonetheless, she was a very good-natured cat who avoided confrontation with other cats. I thought it would be cruel to deprive her of something she enjoyed so much, so I allowed her to be an indoor/outdoor cat. She had the best of both worlds; a loving family, food, shelter, toys, as well as freedom.

Back when she was younger she would catch rats and bring them to me. I always thanked her for the gift and, without her looking, disposed of them. It always amazed me how smart she was; she would go outside and sometimes even disappear for a day or two, but she always came back. All my neighbors knew her and found her adorable. She would sit on the porch and greet passers-by by meowing and rubbing against them, always making them smile. When I adopted my second cat (Minna Malee) as a kitten, I trained her to give high fives for food, and tried to train her to walk on a leash to no avail. I didn't bother trying to train Ginger because I thought she was too old to be trained. One day, I jokingly held my hand up to her and said "high five," the way I did for my other cat. To my utter amazement, Ginger gave high five! What's more, I put the leash on her and she walked like it was the most normal thing in the world!

We had so many great years together. Ginger, the apple of my eye… For this reason I called her My Precious. Always in my heart.

"rainbow Bridge"

For those of you who read this in my other post, this is a slightly different version but it is the one that was read during Ginger's memorial. For those of you who haven't read it, I hope it will bring some comfort and hope to you as it has to me...

The Rainbow Bridge
Author unknown

There is a bridge connecting Heaven and Earth. It is called the Rainbow Bridge because of its many colors. Just this side of the Rainbow Bridge there is a land of meadows, hills and valleys with lush green grass. When a beloved pet dies, the pet goes to this place. There is always food and water and warm spring weather. The old and frail animals are young again. Those who are maimed are made whole again. They play with each other.

There is only one thing missing. They are not with their special person who loved them on Earth. So, each day they run and play until the day comes when one suddenly stops playing and looks up! The nose twitches! The ears are up! The eyes are staring! And this one suddenly runs from the group!

You have been seen, and when you and your special friend meet, you take him in your arms and embrace. Your face is kissed again and again and again, and you look once more into the eyes of your trusting pet.

Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together never again to be separated.

Doing The Right Thing For Your Pet

My precious Ginger is gone, I put her to sleep last night. This was the most difficult decision I've had to make. Even though her health had been failing for the past two years, she didn't get a diagnosis until last year - kidney disease. On the good days she seemed perfectly healthy. On the bad days, she threw up constantly, refused to eat, seemed lethargic, urinated outside of the litterbox. I injected her fluids, bought her a fountain so she would always have access to clean fresh water, bought her different types/brands of food, cooked her meals (she loved chicken livers and gizzards with rice). I celebrated any improvement, worried over any decline, and felt frustration over my helplessness. Somehow, the emotional roller coaster became a part of my life. She continued to deteriorate, and yet, she remained active, sweet, playful and sociable. She loved going outside, sitting on the porch, and greeting the neighbors by rubbing against them and meowing. My sweet Ginger always made people smile, everyone found her adorable. "How could this cat be sick?" they would ask.

Last week she had another bad episode, and unlike other times, she didn't immediately bounce back to health. She drank more water than ever even though I was injecting her fluids every day. She refused to eat anything including her favorite snacks. She cried for no apparent reason. She peed on the floor or on my things instead of the litterbox. This was not new to me. However, she'd gotten to the point where her ribs, spine and hip bones protruded so much that her fur did little to hide them anymore. I found out last night that my sweet girl, an adult cat who was at least 12 years old, weighed a little over 5lbs!

As I type this, it sounds like I made the right decision... Why then, do I feel otherwise?