On June 8, 2006 I had to make the most painful decision that I have ever had to make in my life. In the spring of 2004 one of my beloved cats, a female who I had named Midnight because of her soft, sold black coat was diagnosed with having kidney disease. Over those last two years she was doing great with her treatments. She had put weight on and was as active, loving, affectionate and playful as ever. At the end of the past April she became ill and wouldn't eat or drink. I took her to the vet and she had a gut impaction and she was severly dehydrated. Her weight also began to drop again. After her treatment for this episode I thought that everything was okay. She was active and eating and beginning to put back on the weight she lost. My vet checked her out afterwards and wanted to have tested for hyperthyroidism because she had a elevated heartrate and was a little hyper. A few days befoe the test I was pretty sure that she didn't have hyperthyroidism but was hoping for the best. Her activity level dropped and she started to keep to herself more. Her condition deteriorated over the weekend. She wouldn't eat and at times it seemed like she couldn't recognize me. I would always place my hand next to her and she would lunge her head towards it, purring away while while I pet her. I could place hand near her and she would look right through it like it wasn't even there. Sometimes she would turn around and lay back down. When my vet called back with the results from her bloodowork I was devestated. Her BUN, Creatinine and other toxin levels were sky high. Her kidneys crashed twice over the last couple of months and were failing her. She was becomming incontinnent, her breath was bad from the toxin buildup, she wasn't eating and would barely drink. I would give her subq fluids and she would relieve herself near to where she was laying. As the disease progressed and the toxins built there would be an increased chance of her going through seizures. As much I would like to hope that if she was going to die that she would pass quietly in her sleep cuddled up next to me I loved my baby girl too much to see her suffer. Yesterday afternoon, I consulted with my vet and the painful decision was made to put her to sleep.

Before the vet arrived my little girl are some food from my hand and drank a little water. She even went to her litter box before getting back on the bed. She looked at me with her big, sad eyes and I lost it. I told her how sorry I was and that I love her and that I always will. I told her how happy that she makes me and how much I'm going to miss her warm furry body cuddled into my side as we slept, how muich I'm going to miss our chats, her being at the front dorr with her brother as I open it to come home from work, how much I'm going to miss seeing her pounce on her favorite toys or my hand beneath the sheet, how much I'm going to miss seeing her furry little butt bounce as she runs while we play. How much I'm going miss her friendship and affection, and I do and it hurts so, so bad. I keep sliding my hand over the mattress hoping that she is there and that this was all a bad dream. But it's not and the grief is difficult to bear. I've hardly slept nor eaten and the tears are always flowing.

I brought my baby girl home from a local pet store in the spring of 1994, just a week after bringing home her "brother" Shadow. They were both six weeks old at the time. Cute, furry and sometimes a little clumsy bundles of joy. Personality wise, they couldn't be further apart. She was always the more adventerous of the two, more vocal and quite demanding for attention. Shadow was more laid back, almost carefree in spirit, not as vocal unless it's the middle of the night then you can hear his wonderful singing as carries around a catnip toy in his mouth, setting it down before me so, so that I could pet him and tell him how good of a hunter that he is. Midnight was small for an adult cat. She never weighed more than 10 pounds. She was smaller than her two litter mates and to me this and her unique personality made her special. She would "supervise" everything that I did. She would follow me from room to room, lay on the couch with me when I watched TV, sit on the computer desk, "help" me clean the fish tanks. She always had something to say. Whenever I said somerhing to her there was always a reply. Her tail would twitch and wag when I spoke to her, she would purr before I even touched her. I would give anything to have her back. Shadow knows that she isn't here. He would sit near her on the bed these last couple of days. We both would, I wouldn't, couldn't leave her side. She has the softest fur of any cat I have ever touched, I would stroke her while I laid next to her. I didn't want her to be alone.

I help her in my arms as the vet put her to sleep. Crying and telling her how much I love her. If she can hear me now I want to tell her again how much I love her and miss her. I hope that she understands and forgives. I told her not to be afraid, that soon she will be running and playing in tall, green grass with all of the cats that have passed before her, drinking from a cool, clear streams and basking to her delight in the warm rays of the sun. I told her that Shadow and I will see her again, that someday we will all be together again and never be apart. I love you and miss you so, so much Midnight.

Everyone that I have talked to- my vet, family and friends and people who have been in similar situations have all told me that I did the right think. Did I? I take comfort that she had a good long life and that she doesn't have to suffer anymore but there are the feelings of pain and grief for her loss and of guilt. Why does doing the right thing have to hurt so bad? I feel so lost and empty without her here.

Rest In Peace , little princess. I will always love you and miss you and never forget you. You will always be my sweet, precious baby, girl. I love you. Midnight.
1994-June 8, 2006

Daddy