Mittens

Luckily I’ve set up a temporary free AOL account on my laptop, allowing me to write from the privacy of my own room, also allowing me to take up the phone line without my parents’ knowledge. Hey – had they put a jack for the second line we have up here too, I’d use it.

What I really want to write about, however, is my cat. Tonight my family pretty much made the decision to put her to sleep sometime this week. I can’t handle this. We have such a double standard for animals and humans. We say it’s humane to put a dying pet to sleep, and yet we don’t give dying humans that same choice. I don’t know whether or not I’m saying the humans don’t have the best options or the pets, I’m simply stating it. I’m not going to stop them from putting her down. She’s suffering, I know it. She’s miserable, and she’s not my cat right now. I know that her quality of life isn’t high, and that she’s just waiting to die – starving herself meanwhile. But at the same time, I cannot say to my parents – do it. I can’t tell them to kill my cat. I don’t know, maybe I’m just that selfish… but I cannot have my cat killed. I just can’t.

I feel like I don’t want to ever come home from college if she’s not going to be here. I feel like I don’t ever want to wear another white shirt if I’m not going to find a black cat hair on it. I feel like I don’t ever want to wear black pants if I won’t find white cat fur on it.

This cat is 13 years old. From Kindergarten on I’ve lived with this cat. She is my sister, she is my guardian, she is my baby all in one. She is so much of this family, that this family will be different without her. She is loud, obnoxious, opinionated, stubborn, and a perfect fit in this family. I’ve shared so much with her, even if she is a cat. She used to help me with calculus – in fact I’m relatively positive she loved it. She understands both english and german. She sings with the violin and runs from the saxophone. She’s an intellectual kitty.

When I found out about her tumor, I started writing down some memories. They’re far from complete – I intend to add much more – and they are far from well-written – I intend to revise and enhance them. However, for now they will give you a glimpse into our lives with Mittens.

You have to understand something about her – she’s always been the center of attention. She has always stolen the show. She has always been, and will always be remembered as, a very loud, a very obnoxious, a very opinionated little cat. I remember going to the Humane Society the summer before kindergarten with my mom and my sister. We had finally decided to get a kitten… my parents had finally decided we were ready. I remember being thrilled that we were going to get a cat. I’m pretty sure we went out and bought supplies prior to meeting her. In fact, we bought a blue litter box, and a large blue cage (expert Mom knew that eventually a little kitten would grow into the large cage and meanwhile be very comfortable) before going to the Society. Then we made our entrance. Or did she make hers?

We walked in and walked to this huge wall of cats. There were dozens, all in separate cages stacked on top of each other. They were metal “jail”-like cages, so that they weren’t really enclosed, but kept the cats in. My sister and I noticed a rather loud cat in the center of it all, just about at eye-level. She was black and white, standing up on her hind legs, and pawing rather stubbornly on the metal bars of the cage. I might add that her voice was rather resonant with the constant “MEOW” of imprisonment. You had to feel for a cat like that, and Carrie and I immediately fell in love with her.

I don’t think Mom’s initial reaction was quite the same, though. For some strange reason, she kept telling us to look at all the other little kitties that needed homes. She especially pushed one of two small gray kittens who were still with their mother – they weren’t making a peep, and believe me, they weren’t doing much in terms of activity either. They were cute, they were sweet, but they weren’t making the impression that she did.

Mom finally gave up, confirmed that we were sure on our decision, and went over to the counter to discuss the matter. We stayed in front of the cage, perhaps hypnotized by such activity. All of a sudden, a young man came over to the cage, opened it up, and took out our cat… the one our hearts were absolutely set on. Carrie and I were devastated. Our mouths dropped and we turned to look at our mother for an explanation. We breathed a sigh of relief as the man handed our cat to our mother. She was ours.

Mom carried her out to the car on her shoulder and put her in the new cage. It didn’t take us any time before we named her after her white paws – Mittens. This name eventually developed into Mittens Shamu (last name)… our cat, my sister, my baby, and one of my best friends.