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'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

From Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem In Memoriam:27, 1850:
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levchck2
46 years old
Female
kansas city
Born May-29-1977
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levchck2

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6 Jan 2009
Where does one even start when you feel like your heart is shattered? Chickie was a birthday gift to me from an ex-boyfriend and one of the only decent things he ever did for me. She was a shelter kitty and couldn't have been more than 6 weeks old when I got her. She was so precious..immediately greeted me with the biggest, most pitiful meowww that her tiny body could muster...and that was the beginning of our very vocal and loving relationship. I always had at least one pet growing up..there is a part of me that is not complete without a warm, furry body somewhere nearby..but I have never shared the relationship that I shared with Chickie with any other pet. She was the yin to my yang. She was my girl. She didn't used to be nearly as social as she ended up, but she could be in a roomful of a hundred people, sucking up to all of them for special rubs and loving, but if I walked in the room, she was right there with me. I was 'HER' person.

We stayed with the ex for another long and excruciating 3 years. After that, we moved to a different city--she, her brother-dog, Levi, and I and got our own place. It wasn't always easy--I am VERY close to my family and we now lived 250 miles away and didn't know anyone in the city we moved to! but we had each other and that was plenty. Life was drastically better and we had so many fun times. They both kept me company and kept me from being lonely. They brought many smiles to my face.

Chickie was prissy from day one and I am not sure where she got it. She had such and attitude. She would announce her presence when she walked into a room--a soft succession of purr-chirps--"Here I am--soft and fluffy--who wants to rub my ears or tummy?"--tail held completely erect with a perfect little hook at the top. She must always have the freshest water-preferably with ice-and when the bowl was freshly filled, Levi must wait while she took her own sweet time savoring the ice water. She would share, he just came second. She had food allergies, so she had to have special prescription food that had to be kept up high so Levi wouldn't eat all of it. She was never fat at all--she looked big because of all of her hair, but she really enjoyed her food. Heaven forbid she could see the bottom of the bowl--she would let you know! She had the most high-pitched voice and loved to talk--her meows sounding more like a very high-pitched version of Booooo. She loved to talk to me. I could look at her and ask her "What do you want?"--BOOOOOO she would tell me and I would know what she wanted. She would always say hi to her grandma when I talked to her on the phone--Chickie, say HI--Booooo! Heaven forbid she come in contact with anything unsavory—dog walks too close to her?—she would shake her front right paw like—oooh, got something on me! Such a little prisspot.

She was as loving as she was prissy—she loved to curl up in my lap (or my husband’s if I was up and doing things) and make biscuits on our bellies—kneading her claws up and down like there was no tomorrow! When I would lay on the couch, she would curl herself up perfectly in the crook of my arm, giving me gentle head-butts and purring her head off. She also loved to stick her cold, wet nose right in my ear, purring as loudly as possible. (She is the only one I will tolerate this from—I hate anyone messing with my ears, but she could do that to her heart’s content and Levi is definitely allowed to give his polite, doggy kisses right on the tips of my earlobes!) When I was sleeping and she wanted attention, she would sit right on my butt and knead until I woke up and played with her.

Three cities later, our life was definitely great—then we met my husband. I told him when we first started ****** that we were a package deal—if he wanted to be with me, he also got Levi and Chickie. We knew he was a keeper when he not only accepted all of us, but quickly took to spoiling all of us—treats and leashes and collars for Levi and Kitty Scratch pads, catnip, and mousies for Chickie—he loves to go to PetSmart and get treats for them! Then, it got better, my sister moved to town—such a treat—if we were working late, Jennifer would come by and let Levi out and give Chick lots of extra loving. In the midst of all of this, we were also planning a wedding. Three weeks before the wedding, Chickie had an accident on the bathroom rug right in front of me—I knew something was really wrong—she never did this. She was always so good about using the litterbox. I took her to the vet first thing the next morning and had them do all the tests. I wanted to make sure she was okay and it wasn’t something serious. They had to keep her during the day, but I called several times to check on her and they were doing fine. I finally got the call from the vet—she had a bladder infection that they thought could be taken care of with antibiotics. Only one of her kidney functions was slightly elevated and they thought that was because of the infection. She sent us home with the medicine and mentioned that I might bring her in about a month later to see what her kidney levels were without the infection. She took the medicine and seemed fine. The week of the wedding was very hectic and I could tell she wasn’t really happy with all of the people coming and going and disrupting her routine, but she didn’t seem like she felt bad and she was still eating great and drinking plenty. One week after the wedding to the day, she stopped eating and really started going downhill that weekend. First thing Monday morning, I took her back to the vet and she had acute renal failure. Her body temperature was below normal and the vet told me the best thing for her would be to let her go and not suffer. The only thing that hurt more than letting my sweet girl go was the thought of that sweet baby hurting at all. I called my husband and he came there and we held her together, told her what a good girl she was and helped her cross the rainbow bridge.

I know she is in a better place, but I am a complete mess. I do my best each day to be thankful for the 10 and a half wonderful years that I had with her and look forward to the day she leaps into my arms again. Poor Levi was very upset for about a week—didn’t understand why things were so different and where his sister was. He also wouldn’t let me out of his sight for about 2 weeks, but he seems to be doing much better. I know the day will come when Chickie and God decide that it is time for me to have another special kitty, but there hasn’t been one yet who has spoken to my heart. Hopefully, the pain will become softer and I will be able to remember her without breaking down into tears—I pray the day will come soon—I need it. Thank you all very much for keeping me in your thoughts and prayers and understanding the love that one heart can have for our fur-babies!

In Loving Memory
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Chickie
April 1998-November 24, 2008
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17 Apr 2009 - 16:05


16 Feb 2009 - 18:48

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