My dearest Pippin,

How has it possibly been six months since I last gazed into your beautiful golden eyes? It seems like just yesterday, your dad was emailing me pictures after coming home from the vet with you. I remember my friend JJ saying that you were "so cute it hurt." And you were. You were this tiny ball of fluff, barely 3/4 of a pound, and you were so eager to take on the world. I loved you from the moment I first saw you. My heart aches when I look at those pictures of you - so tiny, so full of life and potential. I can't believe we only had six years with you.

You were my constant companion. From the time that you could climb up on the bed, you slept on my hip. When you weren't feeling well, before we figured out that you had diabetes, you didn't do that - but when you were really sick, in between your ICU stays, you started sleeping on my hip again. Oh, Pippin, I feel so privileged to have had those times with you. The last night that you were at home with us, you came and slept next to me. I rested my head upon you, and you purred. We fell asleep that way. I couldn't imagine that in five days, you were going to be dead.

You were always so playful. Whether it was your blue puffball, or your kicker, you just loved to play. I always loved to see you jumping and running. I was so happy when we first started treating your diabetes and you wanted to play again. Your dad and I spent hours playing with you. Part of that was to alleviate our fears and to reassure ourselves that you were okay - but most of it was because we so loved to see you happy. I want you to know that your dad and I loved every single moment that we spent playing with you. We have been so grateful that we had that time with you, and that we stopped to enjoy it. I truly treasure those memories.

You loved to eat. This was, in some ways, part of why you got sick; we all know that overweight kitties are more prone to diabetes. I feel terrible that we couldn't get you to lose weight. We tried so hard - and I know you did too - for a year before you got sick. I don't know what else we could have done. I don't know if there was something else going on that prevented it. Either way... You spent your last months eating whatever you wanted, whenever you wanted. We were just so happy when you were eating, and for a month you didn't lose weight - and we were terrified you would. I hope that being able to eat what you wanted to made you happy, for those three months. I cherish the last time you ate with me. You were on dialysis, sedated, and you ate from my hand. I was so hopeful that you'd started to recover when you did that. You accidentally bit my finger, you were so enthusiastic about the food. I was devastated when that scar healed after you died, because I felt like I was losing a piece of you. I remember how you kissed my cheek after you ate. I can still feel your sandpaper kisses there, even now.

You were the bravest patient I have ever known, and I say that as your mom and as a nurse who has seen many sick people. You were never afraid, whether it was in the ICU or on dialysis. You always held your head high, even when you met the folks at Tufts, and your creatinine was sky high. You charmed everyone you met. The ICU vets loved you. They did their rounds with you on their shoulder, morning and night. I am so proud of you for being so brave. You were braver than I was. I visited you every day you were in the hospital, morning and night, before and after I went to work. There was not a single day you were in the hospital that I wasn't there. I can only hope that made it a little bit more bearable for you. I couldn't stand leaving you alone there, but knowing how many friends you'd made there helped.

I miss everything about you, Pippin. I miss your shiny black and white fur - I miss your dapper tuxedo. I miss your pink and black toe pads. You were so brave when I stuck them to do blood sugars on you. You were stoic when we gave you SQ fluids, and your insulin. You were so patient with your terrified mom and dad. Thank you. I never wanted to feel like I was making your life miserable. Thank you for letting us try to make you better. I only wish we had been able to.

I miss the sound of your purr. I miss your meow. I miss how the hair stuck out from between your toes. I miss being able to call you a part of the Black Cat Brigade. I miss the soft white fur on your tummy. I miss you, Pippin. It's like a piece of my heart is missing. You were my child, and I would have given anything to have saved you - let people think I'm crazy, but yes, if it would have saved you, I would have given my life. That's what mothers do for their children.

Every once in a while, I think you're still here. Your dad and I have heard your meow a few times. I keep finding your favorite toys in random spots - and they're not toys your sister and brothers play with. I thought I saw a tail rounding a corner into your dad's office, and when I followed it, no one was there. All your brothers and sisters were accounted for. Your dad saw the tail too. A few of my dying patients have asked me if I have cats. When I say yes, they tell me that they knew I did, because one was with me. More than one has said it was a black and white cat with me - or "black and another color," one said. I know this is wishful thinking, but sometimes I wonder if you're still with me.

I could write to you forever, my sweet baby boy. Thank you for being a part of my life. Thank you for giving us three extra months with you, and thank you for letting us make them special. Thank you for being so brave.

Please keep the piece of my heart you hold safe. I love you, and I miss you, Pippin.
Mom

Kel, this is a wonderful tribute to your beloved Pippin. Thank you so much for sharing this with us. I cried when I read it. You poured your heart into this post, and I love Pippin's kitten pictures. He reminds me of my Danny's kitten brother whose face was also all black. Pippin sure was such a precious boy kitty. I can only imagine how much you must miss him. Oh those Tux cats, they sure are very special, gentle cats.

My Danny boy loved to eat as well. It was so hard getting him to lose weight, so I know the struggle that you had with his weight issues. Pippin was much loved, and he loved you. That comes across so clearly in your post. My heart goes out to you, Kel. I've read your post a few times, and each time I read it my heart just aches for you. I pray that you will receive some comfort in knowing that Pippin is always there in your heart, and that nobody can take away your precious memories of him.

Hugs,
DannysMom

You're not crazy. I felt the same way when Danny got sick. I would gladly have gotten sick in his place. And I too miss Danny's soft white fur on his tummy.

Thank you, Danny's Mom. It's always nice to know you're there, and that you understand.

Hi, Kel, thank you so much for sharing with us how you're doing and your and your beloved Pippin's 6-month angel-versary. Like DannysMom, a mist was in my eyes as well as I read through your love letter to your beloved Pippin. And thank you so much for sharing with us Pippin's baby pictures - - he is so adorable.

There is no doubt in my mind that your beloved Pippin's sweet Living Spirit continues to share your earthly journey just as he always has and always will. And I hope and pray that your heart is comforted by his visits to let you know he continues to be a part of you. How so very special that some of the patients you care for also are aware of your beloved Pippin's presence with you. I truly believe that as our bodies are released from the bounds of this physical existence that we are able to embrace the presence of other sweet Living Spirits who not only share our earthly journey but who are patiently waiting for us to join them in eternal joy at our appropriate time.

I hope today is treating you, your husband, and your precious furkids kindly, Kel, and that each of you will have a peaceful evening blessed with your beloved Pippin's sweet Living Spirit to comfort you. Thank you again so much for sharing your beloved Pippn with us, Kel. Please know you are in my thoughts and prayers, and that I always look forward to sharing how you're doing, and your treasured memories of your beloved Pippin.

Peace and blessings,
moon_beam