Four years ago I pulled into my parking spot and noticed a little grey and white tuxedo cat sitting on my doormat. I did not think much of it as there were numerous strays around One Bedroom Land. Over the next week every time I came home the little cat would be sitting there. One day I decided to wait in my car to watch the cat. To my surprise, I noticed there was a giant shaved patch on its belly. "Oh, that cat must of have gotten out of an apartment and thinks my place is where she needs to get back inside," I thought. The next day after work the cat wasn't sitting on the doormat. Maybe it was chance, maybe it was fate but I looked down to the bushes on my right as I unlocked my apartment door to find the cat staring up at me and was apprehensive. During the day I periodically poked my head out to check on the kitty and the entire day she laid in the bushes. Knowing where to find her, I went to Wal-Mart to get food and bowls with the idea of befriending her to get her back to her owner.

Armed with food and water, I went outside to feed the poor cat. The cat, whom I later named Samantha, instantly smelled the food and picked up my friendly intent. She jumped from her hiding spot and practically inhaled the food. It wasn't long before she opened up to me, rubbing on me and exposing her belly. Try as I might, every time I called the shelter for a cage they never had one. I finally described the cat and made note of the missing ear tip, thinking it was a injury from a cat fight. "Oh, that sounds like a stray cat that was trapped, spayed and released." Turns out I had been feeding a stray cat that quickly adopted me as an owner.

I was in a bind. I wasn't allowed to have pets in my apartment nor could I afford to move anytime soon. I couldn't in good conscience turn the cat over to the shelter. Who would want an older stray cat? At the same time, I didn't have the heart to give her up to the humane society. I had become attached to this friendly cat. At first I feared my landlords would tell me to stop feeding it or give it to the shelter but they never said a word. As time passed I was able to pay off bills to lower my monthly expenditures. With my student loans fully paid off this year and ballparking my tax return, I figured I could finally move to a apartment that would allow pets and afford everything that having a pet entails.

I began imagining what life would be like with Samantha as an indoor cat. Would she use a litter box? How would I trim her claws? How would I get her in a carrier to take to the vet? What if she wanted to remain living outside? She always waited for me to get off work. Always happy to see me, rub on me and play with me. Always rushing to see me when I stepped outside. In the past few months even demanding that I pick her up and hold her after years of not wanting to be held. It was possible she would not like being indoors but based on her demeanor around me I was betting she would make a great indoor cat.

It was this thinking that made yesterday one of the most difficult days of my life as I had to let Samantha cross the Rainbow Bridge.

Over the past week I noticed her appetite disappear. I initially thought she was just anxious. A stray cat had chased her and pinned her down. I assumed that she feared another attack but figured the hunger would kick in after a few days and she would go back to normal. On top of this, she was always scrawny and a nitpick of an eater. It was normal for her to want me to feed her, eat a handful of bites and wander off. But after several days and an attempt to get her to eat canned food failed, I became alarmed at her lack of appetite and weight loss. She no longer pawed at me to pick her up but still purred up a storm, rubbed on me and swatted at me with her front paws while playing.

After a stressful car ride to a vets office, I crossed my fingers that it was nothing serious. When the vets called me while I sat in the car (Coronavirus and all that), I knew this was wishful thinking. Upon being brought inside Samantha immediately lost control of her bladder. After setting her on the table to be examined, Samantha promptly collapsed at a slight touch. After some blood work, it came back that she had a upper respiratory issue and worse, her kidneys were in bad shape. I knew at this point I had to let her go.

After being let in, the doctor explained that she been hiding her physical ailments and had been probably using all her strength to interact with me to maintain a facade that she was alright. I wrestled with a wide range of emotions upon hearing this. I was angry at myself for not realizing what she was going through. I was angry at my inability to get a better paying job to be able to get a place that allowed pets, reasoning that I could have caught these problems somehow. I was embarrassed at myself for feeling I had let her down. I was embarrassed at bringing this sickly cat to the vet not realizing how bad she was hurting, afraid the vet was thinking I had neglected her.

Even on deaths doorstep Samantha refused to let me look her in the eyes, not wanting to be seen hurting. After a shot to help her relax, I said my goodbye to her and thanked her for helping me get through some of the most challenging times of my life. I thanked her for her companionship and always picking me up when I was down. I apologized to her as well, apologizing for not being able to make her an indoor cat.

And that's why this post is so long and rambling. I wanted to give her some compensation (however poor it is) for not being able to give her the indoor life she richly deserved and to let people know what a sweet and joyful cat she was to have around, to let people know how much an animal can help you out in life. I want people to know what an amazing cat you were.

I'm going to miss you waiting on me to get home from work
I'm going to miss your amazing trills and brrrrs
I'm going to miss your loud purr as you chowed down on food
I'm going to miss you walking with me to the mailbox and to the dumpster
I'm going to miss you darting in front of me while walking, however annoying it was
I'm going to miss you sleeping on my window sill
I'm going to miss you greeting me as I got out of my car (as well hopping in if I took too long)
I'm going to miss driving down Campbell and seeing you as a little grey dot in front of my door waiting on me
I'm going to miss keeping you company while you ate
I'm going to miss you using mine and neighbors doormats as scratch pads
I'm going to miss you racing to plop down on my doormat wanting attention, even if my hands were full
I'm going to miss you sitting in your winter shelter, looking like a little cow
I'm going to miss you tearing up my hand from playing with you
I'm going to miss coming back from running and you insisting on trying to clean all the sweat off my arms and legs
I'm going to miss you never figuring out what treats are (She would just ignore the treats and rub my hand. Putting them on ground work didn't work either).
I'm going to miss watching you get the cat crazies, running across the parking lot to climb up a tree and hang there for several seconds before jumping down.
I'm going to miss you sitting on cars in the winter time to soak up heat from the metal.
I'm going to miss how you hated rain yet greeted me getting out of the car when you could have just stayed on the porch to stay dry
I'm going to miss how you hunted mice to leave on my porch to cheer me up when I was feeling down
I'm going to miss have to shoo away birds from eating your food while you laid less than 5 feet away watching them
I'm going to miss your fierce determination to live and survive and how even at the very end you refused to break

I'm going to miss you, Samantha.

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Mucky......my heart goes out to you.
Pets give so much love to us.
Only someone who has felt the love of a cat or dog can understand how much it hurts when we have to say goodbye to them.
You gave Samantha what she needed. I KNOW she loved you and got from you what she needed and wanted.
And when it was time for her to leave, you were there for her. Do NOT feel guilty! You gave her food and love! Something she wasn’t getting from anyone else. She knew you loved her!
She was lucky to have you!

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What an amazing post. Thank you for sharing. I know the pain a of losing a beloved member of the family that some would say was "just" a pet so I somewhat understand how you feel. Don't feel ashamed/angry that you couldn't bring her inside. I am not sure she would have wanted to stay indoors, except on the most bitter cold days. It shows what a kind heart you have to take such good care of a stray. I could go on but this is about you and Samantha. You did a fantastic job caring for her. Be at peace.

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Cheesey and wpr, thank you so much for your kind words. Your words (as well as those from friends and family) have picked up my spirits and restored my shaken confidence in my abilities to take care of a pet. My anger and embarrassment began to recede yesterday and continue to do so as I begin thinking less of Samanthas death and more of her life. I now know I'll welcome another companion into my life at some point and be able to do so with open arms.

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Mucky, your welcome!
Over the last 40 years, I have had 4 dogs. 2 that we had to have put to sleep (which I stayed by their sides at the end, which ripped my heart apart) one that died of an aneurism.
#4 is little “Baby Girl”. Each time I had to see them go, I didn’t think I could open up my heart to have another pet. When my wife brought Baby Girl home,(almost 4 years ago now) I wanted nothing to do with her. But in a short time, once again I fell in love with her. Now I can’t imagine not having her here.
When I’m not feeling well, which is too often, she showers me with kisses. How can you not feel better with that?
And I can tell by your post, you will once again put yourself out there to love another pet. And that pet will be very fortunate!

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I think this has hit as hard as it did because Samantha was my first pet and something I considered mine and mine alone. My Father, sister and I had a cat when I was younger and as much as I played with it, I didn't consider it mine and didn't have the responsibility of feeding it, cleaning the litter box etc. I've grown attached to other peoples dogs such as my moms, friends and roommates. Even as much roommates dogs responded to my commands better than their owners at times, they weren't mine. As close as I grew to my friends dog from dogsitting him and taking care of him to the point my friend said that he was "ours," I knew he wasn't really. I knew in each case that their lives were not in my hands and that if the animal were to need to be put down, then they would want their owners at their sides. I commend your desire to be there until the very end. I couldn't do the same for Samantha. I left her before they gave the final shot because I didn't want my last image of her to be this lifeless, dead thing. I realize now too my feelings to the events that transpired was me not being able to protect her from death and that's something no one can do.

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After my last dog had to be put down, the vet left me alone in the exam room with my "pup". That's how I saw him even if he was 14 years old. I took a few pictures of him laying lifeless on the ground. (He was too big for me to lift him up onto the exam table so the vet's assistant spread a blanket for us.) I sent them to my wife. I don't remember if I sent any to my kids. They are both adults so they would not have traumatized them. It's 3 years ago but I come across them every once in a while.

I didn't want another dog after that. I looked at dogs on Find a pet's website but I was not seriously looking. My wife saw our current dog at the local rescue. She was so frightened and pitiful looking I made up my mind that I was going to adopt her no matter what. It took 5 or 6 visits before the rescue agreed to let her come home with me. Even then she was terrified. It's been a long long 2 1/2 years. We grown pretty close but she is still skittish. Well beyond normal. I took her to an animal trainer who deals with Aussy Shepherds and she put her at the top of her list of terrified dogs. She's come a long way but it's still a work in progress.

She'll never be very social but she loves the neighbor girls. That was the only goal I had, to make sure she never attacks a child. (She was given up for adoption because she bit her last owner. She bit me on our first morning when I went to put her leash on to take her outside. She's growled at my wife from time to time.) I am confident she will not bite children but she is afraid of most adults.

But back to you beast and Samantha. I see you got her paw print cast. They are nice mementos.

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The vets office that I took her to does it with every animal they put down. Receiving it and holding it in my hands helped bring some closure and made me realize that Samantha is gone but not forgotten. When I get the chance I will probably frame it with several pictures.

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Mucky, I think most pet owners can’t stay with their pets when they are put down. The pain is too much. And believe me, I understand that.
I made the choice of being there because in my own mind, I owed it to them. I got “Norman” from the humane society as a one month anniversary present for my wife in 1981. He was so smart and gave us 13 years of love and devotion.
Next was “Vinnie”, named after Lombardi. He died at age 5 of an anurism.
Then “Seth”. We got him as a pup and had him for 15 years. He had heart trouble and had to be put down. That was in 2015. Now sitting here writing this has me fighting tears.
There is a pet out there waiting for you! I love the fact that you are so open to give another one a loving home.

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Sorry for your loss. 😥

I got Keiana cat for her birthday when she was really young. We couldn't have cats where we moved many years later so Scarlett's mom took him in. Then she moved and gave the cats (she also had one) away. She tried to update me on how they were doing. I stopped her "no, I won't hear anything about him. Jecht is happily being a fat lazy cat on some farm, that's the end of it".

I don't think anyone is good at "losing" a life so when I say I'm bad at it, I understand it's hard for everyone. It's one of the reasons I haven't picked up a pet since. I can't bare the loss again.

All we can do is relish in the memories and remember the immense joy we were fortunate to experience.

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