I begged my husband for a cat after we moved to a new city. After 26 yrs. with dogs & no cats (my mother hated them because my aunt visited ever Winter with her cat Blackie who climbed screens, curtains, bedspreads, you name it!) I really wanted my own cat. I pleaded with friends over the years to name their cats BooBoo, after the silly stuffed animal on Laverne & Shirley. No takers. My husband caved easily. A coworker just had a litter. I wanted a fluffy white one. The mommy was black short hair, who knows what dad(s) looked like. There were several pretty white fluffy ones with blue eyes to choose from. I say that she picked me. She came to me easily. No fishing behind the stove to reach her! Solid white, longish hair, blue eyes. Perfect! My BooBoo Kitty...all mine. She cried the first several nights pitifully. My husband would pick her up & put her in bed with us. I scolded him half-heartedly. She slept at the top of our pillows, purring so loudly it would keep you awake. At about 3 mos. she started getting a brown face, tips of ears, paws, & tail tip. The white fur turned to a cream color. She eventually grew into this beautiful, perfect cat. Some people mistook her for a siamese (too fluffy), some mistook her for a persian (no persian facial features). She was a mutt, pure & simple. She did however resemble what they call Rag Cats. Just gorgeous. The best personality of any cat I'd ever known. Very friendly. Loved everybody...even our dog. She would nuzzle the dog & sleep next to her, it was heartwarming. At 11-ish years of age, we brought a baby home. Suddenly BooBoo nor the dog were the babies anymore. Instantly they both had a huge chunk of their loving time taken away. Obviously not intentional, but it happened. I always said that BooBoo was my baby & that I loved her more than most people love their pets. I told my closest friends that when she passed, not to expect me to go to work or any other activities, that I would be too sad. She was my everything. Suddenly our newborn son was my everything. Casting the other two into 2nd & 3rd place in our hearts. BooBoo was slipping into a new category as just "our cat". People still commented on how beautiful she was, how friendly. How pesty I thought to myself. She was almost "too" lovey. It was annoying with a new baby. And all those myths about cats, stealing the baby's breath, the litter diseases, etc. I started to lose interest. Can you imagine? After the love affair I had with this animal for so many years? Years passed. The baby grew to love the kitty almost as much as I had once loved her. He is now a little boy, still fond of the sweet kitty, now almost 18 yrs old. Starting to lose bladder control. She is now wetting in the house occasionally which is not acceptable, especially if you are not a cat lover. Dad has finally put his foot down & confined her to the garage and outdoors only unless supervised inside. This works fairly well for about a year. She has her food, litter, & sleeping quarters in a cozy (?) corner of the garage. She knows how to get outside & in with the crazy door that goes up & down, and I swear she races to see how low it could get before she would slip under it. She would challenge our cars as we pulled in and out, not moving until the last moment. Not fun when you're in a hurry getting your child to school. The mood toward the cat is changing. The vet feels she is very old and is having trouble with her bladder. We understand. She still has a very good quality of life, though different from before. My love for her has wained. My darling son has taken her place & there is no return. I feel like a horrible, horrible person. One year ago. BooBoo again challenging us as we are leaving the garage to leave for the first day of school. We're excited, hurried, unfocused. I back out of the garage and heard a cat's scream. I see something in my side mirror. I think it's safe to continue backing out to see what's wrong with her, get into the sunlight, check her out. Instead by the time I'm backed out, she bolts across our large wooded yard into the woods. Running full speed. I sense she is okay. Maybe I caught her tail? A paw? But she's okay, she's running. Right? My son is concerned as am I, but we're in a hurry. We go to school. I promise I'll call her & take her to the vet. She usually comes like a dog when called. She was a very unusual cat. She has lived in 10 different places all over the country and has "never" gotten lost or not come when she was called. I came home & started calling her. No reply. I searched the woods. I put out food & water. I called the neighbors. I was a horrible mother. I had run over my own cat and let her go and now she wont come to me. We searched all day. No reply. We left the food out believing she'd be on the porch that night or next morning. Calling, calling. "Here BooBoo Kitty" on & off all night & day. Fast forward one year later, Fall, 2001. She is gone. We searched the pounds,the neighborhoods nearby. Put up flyers. Called her name for weeks. Checked the online list of missing animals in our area. No luck. We've never really grieved, except my son, as we always thought she'd come running home eventually. If she could run away from my car, how hurt could she be? I feel awful. I am reading these beautiful stories about people loving their pets & what they do for them and how they watched or helped them die peacefully. How they have grieved. I have gone from a person that once loved my cat so fiercely that I was "planning" on taking time off of work to grieve. Yet, I've barely shed a tear for BooBoo. I read the stories herein & feel so hollow. What happened to me? Am I a horrible person? I virtually abandoned my first baby. The one that taught me how to love so fiercely and care for a helpless animal that depended on me to feed, water, & maintain her health. I want to grieve but feel so guilty for what I have done. I thought by writing this story I will find some comfort and find my grief that has been buried. I have. And if nothing else comes of this, maybe someone else will read this and try to be a better caregiver to their pet(s)even though they have grown pesty and annoying and children have replaced them. Maybe they will realize that every living thing deserves the same love and respect as our own real family and cannot be disposed of out of convenience. This is my love story about my cat BooBoo, for whom I now miss dearly. Still.