Until We Meet Again

My Sweet Smokie

I sadly had to put my beautiful 9-year-old feline friend Smokie to sleep today. He had been ill for about a week. He didn't eat this week, was very lethargic, drank more than usual, licked his lips a lot, and his energy field was dimming. One day he tried to jump on the bathroom counter, one of his favorite places because he would be brushed, scratched, groomed and loved there, but he couldn't make it and fell to the ground. The vet at the Humane Society said that cats hold their illnesses in and won't show signs until the last possible days. When he urinated in his litter box he didn't cover it up as he always did. Last Sunday he seemed to be constipated, and when he did poop, he pooped on the rug in several areas -rare for him. He also threw up that day and the poor thing just flopped himself sideways onto the floor afterward, almost as if he was extremely tired and saying "I give up". I tried to motivate him to play with the new laser light and feather toy I bought for him Tuesday, but he wouldn't take a go at it. He perked himself up a little bit when playing with a small string and his old tiny feather toy. He was very content that I sat on the floor to brush him and simply be with him. I thought, I hoped, that I was bringing him in for a simple check up and kidney test. In my heart I felt this coming on throughout these past few days because I cried and felt "good-byes ...for now" coming on, hoping and praying I was wrong. The tests for his kidney and liver showed problems that were way off the charts.

As I carried him down the condo stairs he cried out a few times almost to say, "Please don't take me". In the car I spoke and sang to him to calm him. He trusted me and thought that no harm would fall upon him. I'm so sorry Smokie. I am so sorry. The vet said it was a good decision to put him to sleep because the pain would only continue and at his age the meds and plans couldn't be guaranteed to work. I wasn't going to bring him in at first, hoping all would just be better with a hug and a kiss and a few songs I sang to him. It came to mind, however, that he deserved better, he deserved medical attention. I was with him when he took his first steps over the Rainbow Bridge. I asked for his ashes to be sent to me.

I had him for his last four years. Not even for most of his life, and I really wanted that honor. But, truly, it's not how long of time that love measures but rather the kindness and care given. I found Smokie, when he was 5-years-old, at the Michigan Humane Society. He sat and stared at Aunt Jeannie and I as we talked about the cats, almost as if he was prepared to attend our business meeting. He followed us to the bench and sat when we entered the room. He was friendly, attentive, curious, smart, and when I wanted to test a feather toy out laying on the floor, he jumped and was ready to play. He was the cat I wanted but I still needed another week to prepare the house before I could bring him home. I called MHS a few times that week, fingers crossed, that he was still there. When I went to pick him up he was the only cat left, totally surprising me because he was the most wonderful. I walked into the cat room with an employee. Smokie was hiding out up in a cat toy. "There he is!" she said and he jumped down to the cat tree and sat before us. She left the room, and I knew he was mine, and he was meant to be mine. I just looked at him and said "Are you ready to go home now?" He jumped down, rubbed himself against my leg, as if to say "Yes."

Throughout the years he "played the piano" (scratched his front paw pads against the top rim of the cabinet door, or cardboard box, or whatever came in handy)as I sang as his torch singer "Awoo Awoo, da meee da you, Awa Awa, the seeees boombaa". I sang my love song to him "You are so beautiful, Smokie is so beautiful, You are so beautiful. Beautiful." From day one I sang "Memories, all alone by the moonlight, has the moon lost its memory? He is crying aloooooone. (All alone.....by himself.....no one else.)" When I sang his name to the tune of Silent Night it calmed him. I was enamored with his velvet paws ("Toesies!") and stroking his tail -and he knew it, and flaunted it! Liz use to call him Zen Kitty when she came over, he always looked so at peace! He was friendly and sociable with family, snuck away when strangers came over. Sometimes he would lay on my back when I slept on my stomach. Sometimes he would nudge me to get up when he thought i was sleeping in too late. Sometimes he would sit and stare at me as if I was a rare and unique finding. He also loved to stare outside at the birds and the goings and comings of life. When on the bathroom counter he would scratch himself against the angels hand that I have in there so he could get extra scratchings. I loved to watch him joyfully trot over to me when I, at a distance, put my hand down to his level and shook my fingers. He loved me.

As Kristy wrote in my Facebook "You know Smoke will be on the Other Side watching over you!" One day I'll see that tail again, and it will be what I will follow to get to heaven. I will see you again my friend, you are in my heart for always.