To my dear little kitten who died this morning. I had every hope for her, as she ate yesterday evening, drank some milk and crawled up onto my lap to sleep for a while before I went to bed. She seemed to be getting better, but alas, she passed too soon into a better kitty-land where she is now healthy and happy, playing with her new friends and perhaps remembering me with some affection.
It comforts me some that one day her mama, who she loved as all children love their mothers, will join her, and they will be together again in joyful reunion, cherishing each other as they did in life, for I’m sure she must miss her mama where she is now, even though living in a kitten paradise.
I know it’s just a little life, but I’m sure life meant as much to her as it does to us. Small as she was, I know she loved me as I loved her, I could see it in her little eyes when she’d look up trustingly into mine. A tenderness of innocence that had no motive other than the pureness of love itself.
We had happy times together when she was feeling well. I took her outside twice to play in the warm grass, and I knew she was happy then, and brought her back into the house where she would lie next to the heater, which was her special place of comfort.
I look at her now lying there on the floor, still pretty in her kitten-ness, now at peace at last, with no more hurting or feeling sick, as I’m sure she felt in her short existence. She suffered a little, I think, in death, and I am sad I could not console her in that moment, nor ease her suffering in life.
Just a cat, I know, but still she deserved better, as she loved unconditionally and did no harm, which I think are the greatest virtues.