Goodbye, Kitty

Well, today I did something I have never done before: had an animal "put down," a euphemism for other harsher terms, including "euthanized." I know in my heart of hearts it was the right thing to do; our cat, whom we have only had since January, and who was barely, if even, one year old, had a fatal disease called FIPV. History: the older siblings all had the chance to have a cat or other various animals to care for and love. Hope had nursed Faith's 15-year-old cat as it died last summer. Someone (there is a disagreement about whom now) said Hope should get to have a new, live kitty since all she has ever had is old broken down ones. So we started keeping our eyes open for a little cat. To make a long story shorter, we acquired "Andy," (his name at the shelter), a beautiful, all-black, sleek, green-eyed, skittish, but very lovable cat about 8 months old. He was Hope's pride and joy and best friend, sleeping close to her and sitting in her lap when she did school work or played on the computer. He went through several name changes (Toby, Newman, Romeo, and Puma, to list a few); he also had 4 vet visits in 4 months. After his second ailment (undiagnosed fever), the vet warned me he could have FIPV, but we were all encouraged when he recovered and was a normal, lively kitten for 4 weeks. Then began his long, slow, agonizing demise. He started stumbling and not making it up to the window sills like he had been. Then he lost control of his back legs, but was still managing to get around and into his litter box. However, he stopped eating. He became even more loving, climbing up into our laps, sitting nearby and looking up at us, like, please pick me up, purring as we held him close. Unforturnately, the dragging of his back end got worse each day, but he was still lively and responsive in between long periods of sleep. Family members began chanting, "Put him down; stop this agony." At that point I began to soul-search; was I considering this because WE were in agony WATCHING him, or because HE was suffering? At first, I believe it was because WE were the sufferers; he seemed ok as long as we helped him. And of course, Hope was in excruciating pain, crying herself to sleep every night, cuddling him, asking WHY? Why do I get all the broken cats? I don't want him to die....I took the "David" approach at first in my prayers: when David knew his son was to die, he still fasted and prayed and asked for healing, but when the son died, he got up and went on with life. ( I admit I did not fast, but I did some heartwrenching pleas for healing if it was God's will!) Then yesterday it became very clear to me the cat was suffering; he wasn't cleaning himself, he lost control of his toiletry, and he was so miserable (and yet at rare times, perky and attentive, and so darn loving!!!); Hope was coming to grips with reality, too, and after a last night with him cuddled close (with no accidents and no movement), we re-assessed and watched the poor thing this morning and knew it was time. Tim thinks because he was young, his will to live went beyond what was best for him. I won't agonize you with details of what his suffering was, but I took him to the vet. Sarah was so sweet and offered to go with me; good thing, because I was in no shape to drive. I cried in the office, cried in the car on the way home, cried while Hope and I dug the hole in which he now peacefully rests. I do not understand these things, but I know God does all things well, and I also know with all the death Hope already has faced, she will be able to comfort others. And though we are hurt now, we can now go on without this hanging over us. (I was not sleeping well and sick to my stomach over this!) Anyway, please pray for Hope as she adjusts to her loss. I am very proud of her; she has acted in such a mature and kind way. I know God is pleased with His child.