"Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened." (Anatole France)
When I first saw you, you were a tiny ball of orange fur. Mo and I had walked into the house and you jumped from Mom's arms at the sight of us. You ran into my room, under my bed and hid yourself in our hearts. You barely walked by yourself in those early months, Mo and I loved having a "little brother" to carry around. Dad was sure you didn't know how to walk. But you loved every minute of it. And how I loved coming home to find you curled up on the sunny spot in my room. All the stories I could tell! Each moment of my childhood past that moment holds you deep inside it.
When I had chicken pox, you slept on my legs so that I wouldn't scratch them in my sleep. You always seemed to know when I needed to cuddle, and when I needed to cry you offered your fur to hold my tears.
In middle school, you used to watch for me from the front window. I knew I was home when I spotted you in the window. Even then, we used to dress you in our baby and doll clothes. You looked so adorable, and tolerated so much. I couldn't fall to sleep at night if you weren't curled up beside me.
In high school, you met one of your best friends. Her name was Tribble and she believed she was a cat. I remember watching you nap on top of her cage every day, and you learned quickly not to stick your tail into the cage. When she died, you sat with me and you mourned with me. When I came home with Honey, you loved her too, even though she wasn't Tribble. When Honey died, you felt the loss as much as I did.
When I went to college, I know you felt like I abandoned you. It would take you days to forgive me when I came home, but by then I would leave again. But I always came back, and you were always here.
Last year, you got fleas. You are allergic to them, so they made you so miserable. But we fought and finally got rid of them. We learned you were in the early stages of kidney disease, so we made changes in your diet and care. We wanted you around for a good many more years.
But, you weren't immortal. A couple weeks ago, you started getting sick again. Then you couldn't keep food or water down. You tried so hard to eat and drink, but you couldn't eat more than a bite or two at a time. You lost so much weight that you became a skeleton.
So today, we took you to the vet. We guessed at what would be coming, but we all hoped we were wrong.
We were, sort of. But it didn't change much.
Your kidneys are fine and healthy.
But, you have intestinal cancer. And it has moved into your lungs. So you can't breath very well. And because its affecting your intestines, you can't eat or drink. You are suffocating and starving to death.
So we had to make a choice. We cried and hugged you and we told you we loved you. Then we called the vet back into the room. We told her what we wanted - your pain to go away. She talked with us, and encouraged us. The receptionist told us how loved you were, and how handsome you were. But we already knew that. We stayed as they gave you the shot, and as you took your last breath. It was so hard to walk out with empty arms. You were always loved, and always wanted. You're still in our hearts, and though that softens the blow, we all still ache.
You may not understand why we did what we did, why we chose to let you go. You cried out and looked at each of us - trying to convince us to bring you home. We wanted to, but we can't watch you suffer. You are a fighter, and you fought the moment as courageously as you have fought against change all your life. And we love you for it.
So Rembrant Brendahl, wherever you may be, know that you shall forever be missed. You are the last piece of my childhood to really leave me, the last pet from those early years I must bid farewell. You stood by me through the deaths of two grandparents, two guinea pigs, and a dog. You were my comforter and my friend. You listened to my heartbreaks, and my frustrations. You know my dreams and my hopes. You kept every secret I ever told you and you loved me. You came into my life shortly before my birthday sixteen years ago, and for having known such a special little cat, my life shall never be the same. You lived a good long life, and you fought so hard at the end. I am proud to have known you. Adieu my cat, my friend, my brother. Until we meet again.
