Meep was found wandering the streets of Detroit Lakes, MN alone and too young to be weaned. The woman who found her brought her to The Marshmallow Foundation because her teenage daughter worked there on the weekends in the cat room. The shelter was overflowing at the time. There's room for about 65 cats, and there were about 80 awaiting adoption, so Meep went into a kennel with 4 or 5 other kittens.
My first day at the shelter was orientation day. I noticed a kitten that looked sick, with a runny nose, and an eye that was clouded over. The shelter director told me that this was Meep, and she had lost the sight in one eye because of a respiratory infection, something all too common in shelters.
For several weekends volunteering, I spent hours cleaning cages and feeding cats. There was little time to anything but pull the cats out of the cage, remove their bedding, change their water, bleach, rinse, repeat. But Meep was already the darling amongst the crew, and several employees expressed interest in adopting her. I even made a video of her at the shelter just because she was so darn cute. Teeny tiny, she still managed to stand her own with cats 10 times her size.
The next weekend, she was gone, and I was secretly disappointed. Then I learned that she had gone to a foster home until she could be adopted. She continued to get sick, and living in a shelter wasn't safe for her or for the other cats. I made my intention to adopt her known, and as soon as I moved into my new home, I arranged for her foster mom to bring her to me. Turns out her foster mom is my next door neighbor, on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere!
2.8 pounds. That's how much she weighed when I got her. And she had gained weight during her stay in foster care; she was just a tiny thing. About 10 days after she came to live with me, she got sick again. More antibiotics, with a dire prognosis. But she bounced back. I had the joy of watching her play for the first time, and run through the house chasing her brother and sister. And then I'd look down to see her at my feet, wanting to be picked up and held. Always on her back. She loved being rocked, and when she reached 4 pounds, I danced with her in the kitchen.
But always, she'd get sick. Soon it was every day, for hours at a time. She would breathe fast and loud, and no amount of shower steam seemed to help. More antibiotics, steroids, until she was on 4 different medications a day. Still, she would have periods during the day when she could breathe, and though she didn't play anymore, she still loved to be held.
Yesterday was like any other. Her breathing was noisy; had been all night. She jumped into my lap while I was working, and was content. Suddenly she leaped straight up and raced out of the room. By the time I got to her she was having a full blown seizure. I put her in a quiet place and called the vet. "Come on in", they said.
She had another seizure on the way there, and a third while with the vet. At that point, my vet said that her best chance was to take her to Minneapolis, where they had specialists and equipment like MRI machines. I left with her immediately for the 4 hour drive. By the time we reached the clinic, she had had 9 seizures, and had a 10th as soon as they got her. They gave her valium, hooked up an IV, and the doctor met with me.
She had the records, she said, but wanted to hear her history from me from the beginning. Then she gently started to tell me what the options were, and what the possible prognosis was. I said, "is it FIP?"
Startled that I would know what that was, she said yes, I really think it is. FIP is almost impossible to diagnose; it's a diagnosis of exclusion. So Meepers had already been tested for everything under the sun, with negative results.
FIP is always fatal. Always.
So I could keep her overnight at the hospital, let them run the same tests she'd already had, then go to another specialist for an MRI to check her brain, but if it wasn't FIP, it was something equally as deadly. So, the day I knew was coming since the day I adopted her had at long last arrived. They brought her to me wrapped in a blanket, sleepy from the valium, and obviously traumatized from a day of seizure after seizure. . I held her as she fell asleep and said my final goodbyes. The doctor asked if I wanted more time with her; she herself spent two hours holding her dead cat after being put to sleep, so she knew what I was going through.
I was ready. Meep was already asleep, and as the doctor pushed the syringe full of pink fluid into her IV, just like that, she took her last breath.
After she was gone, the Vet Tech got her paw prints for me to take home.
This morning, I baked the clay with the paw prints, and set it on the kitchen table. When I came out of my office, Maggie, my other girl cat, was sleeping in the middle of the table next to the prints. I've never known her to sleep there, but it made me smile.
And this afternoon I noticed the picture on my cat of the day calendar bore a striking resemblance to Meep, but healthy. I guess it was her way to let me know that she was home, and happy, and healthy.
Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge.
There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together.
There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor; those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by.
The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent; His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together....
Author unknown...
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