5:05 pm February 19th, 2009.
My Dad called. In tears.
Baby has passed away :(
He called me yesterday to tell me Baby was at the vet. She had an abscess the size of a baseball. The vets were keeping her for 2 - 3 days to remove it and clean her up.
My Dad was worried because he didn't think he would be able to cover the cost of the vet bill, I told him not to worry. I would look after it.
The vet called him this afternoon. This morning she was fine, recovering well, and even eating! They went to check on her in the afternoon and she was dead.
They did an autopsy and found she had a tumor on/in her lungs and it burst.
She died alone, at the vets, in a cage. My worst nightmare. No one holding her. No one comforting her. Not with her family. I hope she didn't suffer.
My Dad lives in New Glasgow ... three hours away. It is hard for me to be far away when something like this happens. And with work I cannot go down until Saturday.
Now on to the story of Baby.
Back when I was in grade 8 ... so about 12 years old, there were woods behind our house and I had a cool tree fort. Beside those woods was a big store ... older. I always seen cats going under the building and were living under there. All of them were timid, and scared of people.
One day I saw a new one. A tortie.
I was intrigued by her. Sad that she was living alone and under a building.
I decided I wanted to help her. Feed her, something, anything.
It took me weeks. It took a lot of time, patience, and even more patience. I started out by leaving food out for her. She was terrified of people so I had to take my time.
One step at a time, and when she started getting uncomfortable I would take one step back and wait for her to be ready for the next step.
Eventually I gained her trust enough to be able to be nearby when she ate, and with time I was allowed closer and closer.
Winter was coming. I had to hurry ... but something like this was something you could not rush. One wrong step and everything could go back to square one. It was get her now or never.
I managed to get her. Thank goodness.
I threw a rope loop around her while she was eating, she freaked. Jumping, flipping, and screeching. I quickly got her inside. She hid, as I expected.
It took her awhile to gain my trust more. Slowly she did.
She was eager to get outside ... I would never allow that though.
Then she had kittens. Yup, she had been pregnant.
She had them under my bed.
We found homes for the kittens, kept one. And got her spayed.
From then on she lived a happy life.
When I moved to the valley I decided to keep her at Dads house. She was used to it, Dad loved her so much, and change wouldn't be that great for her. I also knew I would eventually get a dog, and she HATED dogs. She attacked dogs that came in her yard.
So happy she was, at Dads.
So she must have been about 6 or 7. Not old at all.
Baby was unique to me. She was a success story. She was my Baby.
I saved her life.
Now to have her leave me without being able to say good bye. Is sad. It is hard.
Baby liked to drool when she was happy (when you patted her). Drip drip drip drip.
She loved attention, love, pats, and especially her treats and food.
I am going to New Glasgow on Saturday to pay her vet bills, and pay to get her body held until the spring. So she can get buried at Dads house.
RIP Baby. You were an amazing cat. I am glad I was able to help you, and that you lived a loving life as long as you did.
We will all miss you forever.
You are free now.
CLICK HERE FOR PICTURES OF BABY