ShadowBaby

We found a tiny black kitten in February of 1999... he was sitting on the sidewalk in front of an antique shop in the tiny town of Waller, Texas. My husband and I had driven there that day to talk to a dealer about vintage Christmas lights. I saw that tiny black kitten when we got out of the car, and as soon as the kitten saw me, he ran right over. Of course I picked him up, and he snuggled underneath my neck. He was a tiny thing, barely three or four pounds.

The dealer in the shop said she hadn't seen that kitten before, but she did notice that he'd been hanging around outside her shop all morning long, and it was noon-time when we got there. Next door to the antique shop was a florist, and we went in there to see if the kitten belonged to anyone. They said they hadn't ever seen the kitten before that morning.

We asked the florist if she had an empty box, and we put that tiny black kitten inside an FTD box for the ride home. My husband and I were hungry for lunch, and it was a long ride back home from Waller, plus the kitten was crying also-- hungry for his own lunch. Waller had one restaurant on its main road, and we stopped in there for a quick sandwich, leaving the kitten in the box on the back seat. We ordered quickly and ate quicker, and when we told the waitress about the black kitten we had just found, she brought us a piece of chicken-fried steak "for the baby kitty." I cut it into teeny pieces and that was the kitten's first meal with us.

Over the years, ShadowBaby was a good cat. He was affectionate and playful, and appreciated anyone's lap or arms to cuddle into for a long nap. We named him ShadowBaby because a few years before that, our first black cat had passed away (named Shadow) and we had been heartbroken over him, so this second black cat was christened ShadowBaby, and besides, he followed us all over the house, just like the first Shadow used to do.

About four years ago, ShadowBaby started putting on weight. When we lived in Clear Lake, we would let him out in the backyard sometimes so he could get more exercise, plus we had the screen-porch on the back of that house so ShadowBaby could spend time out there watching birds and squirrels instead of watching his food dish. When we moved to this house last year, ShadowBaby put on more weight-- no screen-porch on this house, and we couldn't let him outside because we couldn't possibly keep an eye on him with 23 acres for him to roam. One of the reasons I decided to let the cats come up to the second floor of this house was to give ShadowBaby more exercise. He quickly took to the stairs, and he went up and down all day long.

But still.... the weight. ShadowBaby's favorite thing to do was eat. Not only his own food, but he would bump the other cats out of the way so he could get to their food after he had gobbled down his own. And if their dishes were empty, ShadowBaby would just walk (wobble) over to Gracie's bowl and eat whatever dog food happened to be in there. On more days than I would care to count, I would have to stand there as a "food cop" to make sure the other cats got to eat their lunch or dinner before ShadowBaby came over to lick their bowls clean.

I knew what was happening to ShadowBaby--- the same thing that happened years ago to Rusty, our orange and white Manx. And Rusty was about the same age as ShadowBaby (nearly 12) when all of this manic eating and water-drinking began. A trusted vet and friend of ours told us (with Rusty) that taking care of a diabetic cat was nearly impossible, and not recommended. We didn't put Rusty to sleep until he started to have diabetic seizures in the yard. And he was out in the yard because I couldn't keep him in the house or even on the screen-porch because he couldn't control his bladder, or couldn't get to the litter box fast enough. We waited too long with Rusty. Those seizures were horrible for us to watch, and more horrible for Rusty to endure.

Once again, ShadowBaby followed in Rusty's paw prints. For the past few weeks now, I've been cleaning up accidents from ShadowBaby. At first, I didn't even know it was him, but I caught him in the act a few times and I was so shocked that I couldn't even say a word to that cat. I knew what was happening, and I also knew that he couldn't help it.

As I learned with AngelBoy when he had to be put to sleep, there is always a "last straw" that breaks the carpet cleaner's back. Last night with ShadowBaby was the last straw. That cat walked up the stairs, walked straight into my sitting room, plopped himself down on the carpeting and proceeded to leave me a puddle to clean up. Before I even got out the cleaning stuff to take care of the mess, I knew what we needed to do. I was not going to wait for the seizures to begin. And I was not going to let him continue on like this, the way I did with AngelBoy.

First thing this morning, I called the vet. At ten o'clock this morning, my husband and I were there in the clinic, ShadowBaby was on the table, and they were preparing him for the shot. My husband and I had said our goodbyes to ShadowBaby before we even got in the car, and the drive to the vet's office, with all of the meows coming from the back seat, wasn't a happy one. ShadowBaby never did like being in a moving car.

We knew what was going to happen, but my husband and I were both crying anyway. We were crying as the needle went into that cat, and we cried after ShadowBaby's heart stopped beating.

It is never easy to give permission for this kind of thing. AngelBoy was the hardest one to go through for me. ShadowBaby wasn't at all easy, but I know I'm not going to be heart-sick for weeks on end, like I was with that blue-eyed AngelBoy-cat of mine.

Part of the heart-break is the fact that a pet-owner can walk into a vet's office and with just a signature on a dotted line, that pet's life can end. Quickly. Quietly. Permanently.