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Greetings from the Bridge

My Story

Mom didn't really get to write up my story too much on the bio page, so I got leave to come and write up a diary entry to tell you who I was in life.

When I first met my mom, I had spent my first four months in a cage. Someone had abandoned my furmommy, and a local family rescued her. But she was pregnant, and they didn't want those kittens. The family was great though--they took her to a local vet and paid to board her so she could have her babies, and take care of us.

My mom's mother had a class with the vet--she was taking biology. The vet was trying to find homes for all of us, and offered free kittens with an A. My mother wanted a kitten, but her mother did not. So my mom took the free kitten--ME!!

Honestly though, I'd lived in a cage for four months, seeing the room around me and never really getting to check it out. As soon as I saw mom, I knew I was going home with her, but I really wanted to check the place out! Mom almost didn't take me home, though, because she thought I didn't like her. The assistant also was confused and told her I was a girl. Mom wanted a girl, not a boy. I was really lucky that she was misled though, because otherwise, my sister would have gone with mom, and I'd have been left--just because she didn't believe I really wanted her. Her mom also kept saying I was ugly.

Maine Coons look a little odd when we're babies. We've got three different kinds of fur, we have a wiry long coat, we have a short fuzzy coat, and then we have a regular coat. But the regular coat takes a little time to grow out. My grandma thought I looked like a porcupine. In a week's time though, *I* was a gorgeous kitten, if I do say so myself.

And I was a smart kitten too. My mom isn't always the sharpest tool in the shed, but she loved me very much. She bought me a condo for my first Christmas, and put it next to her bed. I liked sleeping on it next to her. But for some reason, she stopped sleeping in her room and started sleeping in the living room (I think she couldn't keep it warm enough or something). She didn't move my condo! And I tried to tell her to do it. But it took her a week to get it. I had to literally spell it out for her. Honestly, it would have been so much easier if she could have spoke my language. But I did get her to understand me. Finally.

We moved a lot, and had a really good life, until I was almost 12. Then I got diabetes. It was really scary, and my mom cried a lot. The vet she was using didn't know how to treat it, and she was doing everything that she could to help me--but she was not able to because the vet were not providing the right medication. I was losing control of my legs, and I couldn't walk or jump up on things. Mom would lift me up on the bed, but she was afraid I'd hurt myself getting down. Mom thought she was going to have to help me find the Bridge because she was failing me. I didn't blame her though.

She told a group of people what was going on, and they encouraged her to find another vet. She had been afraid to because this was the same doctor who had been so wonderful to my furmommy. I'd been with him my entire life. But the people told her he might be a good general vet, but I needed someone who could specialize. Mom realized she could either help me or keep the vet, and I was more important to her. So, she asked a bunch of people what she should ask, and what the right vet would say, and she found a great vet for me. Less than a week after I started there, I was feeling better. Within three months, I was jumping on furniture again!

I got shots twice a day, and mom was really good about it. She said I was her AngelKitty because I let her do it and came when I was called. She didn't realize that I did understand that those shots might hurt for a second, but they made me feel better all day. It was worth it.

Unfortunately, three years later, I got sick again. Mom said I had a liver tumor. She didn't want me to suffer. For three years, she had me on wet food (I prefer dry) and no treats because they made me sick. No more. Mom gave me whatever I wanted, even TWINKIES!! (I loved Twinkies!) And then she bid me good-bye. She didn't want me to suffer. Mom knew that she could not make me better this time, and she didn't want me to hurt at all, so she bid me farewell. She let my brother (Sam) come say good bye too. It was sad, but I knew what was going on. And I knew why. Mom loved me so much she couldn't let me go through pain.

I still come by to check on her and Sam, and on my new kid brother Gus. I told him about mom and Sam while he was still at the shelter, and I knew he was sick. But I knew mom could help him as much as he could help her. So when he met her, he leapt into her arms. Mom eventually realized that I'd chosen Gus for her, because even though she has a hard time understanding 'cat', she's always understood me.