Yeah, I Cried!

I cried Tuesday morning. I still cried some Tuesday evening. Not a lot, but I still cried.

Owning pets is a wonderful thing. If I had my way I would have a puppy by my side right now. But it doesn't work that way. Still, there is some resemblance of contentment in my life with the kitty cats in the house.

The trouble is, there is one less kitty cat today. Claudia has left this life and in so doing, has taken a little bit of life out of me. Claudia was a great cat. Claudia was a wonderful cat. Claudia will be sorely missed and I am not ashamed to say that as the chemicals coursed through her tiny body ending her rather short life Tuesday morning , I was hurting. I didn't want to let that little girl go. She had all those qualities that any living creature would love to have.

Claudia showed up on the door step several years ago. She was a frail little thing who was just begging for attention. It didn't take long for her to work her way into the house. A trip to the vet revealed that she had been exposed, unfortunately, to feline leukemia. It didn't matter. She stayed. She was quickly assimilated into the household routine and gave so much more than she ever took.

Claudia had that panache that we learn to love in the underdog. Despite the exposure to feline leukemia and the smallness of her stature, she was a winner. She had the greatest personality of maybe any animal I have been associated with. She was a cat that loved people. In my adult life I have owned two dogs--Oscar (a German Shorthaired Pointer) and Coach (a Border Collie). I miss them both, terribly. Oscar was an athlete -- strong, rugged and durable. Coach was as adorable as they come. And, they each loved people--maybe too much. But Claudia, a cat who shouldn't act that way, loved people even more.

She knew no bounds in becoming the most active animal in the household. She was the youngster. Christine is the older, wiser cat and set in her ways. Its Christine's way or the highway. But, Christine took a wide path around the playful Claudia. Bobby, my bobtail cat, is a real he-man. He wants attention only when he wants it. Claudia goaded him each and every day into the chase. And when they were done she crowded in beside him wherever he decided to nap.

But then the feline leukemia reared its ugly head. Claudia became lethargic. A trip to the vet showed that her red blood cell count was down and her white blood cell count was virtually non-existent. A Columbus animal cancer center was a possibility even though radiological exams did not show any tumors. Finally, the vet suggested a round of antibiotics to see if an infection might be lurking in Claudia's frail little body. On Tuesday morning, attempts to kick-start the life back into little Claudia had come to an end.

After the terrible deed was done I came home. Lost and alone despite the presence of two other cats, none met me at the door. No cat crawled up into my lap for attention. No cat sat on her little perches scattered all over the house overlooking human activity--her way of being close to people. No cat crawled under my feet as I washed dishes.

Yes, I cried Tuesday morning. And I am not ashamed to say, I cried Tuesday night too.