I wanted to make a brief post to memorialize my sweet cat, Shady. In case anyone who follows me wanted to check in and such. Perhaps writing about him will help me get through this...
This is one of the last pictures I took of him before my grandmother took him to be put down yesterday at the very same shelter he was adopted from. It’s a bittersweet irony that his life with me should begin and end there. She forced me to face facts that he was suffering from more than diabetes; his toe was swollen, and making the claw blacken with an infection for example. I didn’t have the time nor energy to clean up after him on a daily basis, due to work + my own health issues, and my family refused to help, saying it is entirely my responsibility. Medication, special food, and other expenses all add up to an amount I can’t afford on my own, especially if I want to move out of here...
I feel just terrible that I couldn’t do more for my poor darling... I know everyone thinks the world of their own cat, but Shady was really one of the sweetest little jerks I’ve ever known. My half-brother knew him since he was basically a baby; I think my mom has a picture of him sleeping in his crib somewhere. He never hissed or scratched my brother, even when he tried to play rough, he would just retreat into my room and hide away.
Shady would wake me up very early; most recently at 5AM. He would meow loudly, demanding food, and pap my face with his paw. Then when that didn’t work he would sit right on top of me until I woke up to feed him. He only really liked the pate type of wet food, mind you. Any chunks or shreds, he would not eat as much of.
When he was younger, he loved going outside and exploring the neighbors’ yards. I know this because I used to babysit for some kids a few houses down, and while I was there once, I saw Shady come right on up into their backyard. “Oh yeah, we see that cat all the time,” the kids told me. He probably just liked begging for food.
His favorite activity of course, was sleeping. He would often sprawl his body out on the floor in the direct sunlight, and at night preferred to take up half of my twin size bed.
He was a good and gentle boy.. He didn’t like to be held or cuddled too long, but at every given opportunity that he would allow, you can bet I gave as much love as possible. I swear he could tell when I was especially depressed or stressed out, because he would hop up on the bed and curl up right next to me. He never purred very loudly; his purrs were usually very soft.. Just enough for you to hear when he got up close to you.
Although he got along with pretty much any human along his path, he didn’t like other animals. It was just us and Shady in the house; this was all his domain. It feels so empty and lonely now without him. I keep expecting to see a dark fluffy spot curled up under some furniture, as illogical as that is. I used to talk with him often, and I hate how I keep wanting to call out for him.
I used to always think of myself as more of a dog person, but cats just have a mind of their own. And when they accept you, that’s a big respect. Shady was my best friend, my baby boy, my Shayby. I will miss him dearly for a very long time.
I don’t know when or even if I get a new cat... but I need time to heal.
