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Our Luna Girl

Luna 1, Vet 0

Dearest pals o' mine,

Today was the day, the once a year day, when I go to the Vet even when nothing is wrong. I have to go apparently, because Mom said I need an annual check up and vaccines. Whatever, I like the Vet, so I didn't care.

In we went, and I came alive once in the waiting room. I saw a Mastiff puppy (that was as big as me and she was only 6 months!) and an older Beagle. Then I heard the magic words..."Checking in for Luna".

Back we went, with me proudly prancing back to visit the Vet. He loves me and all.

After getting on the scale (and Mom saying I need to diet), we saw the good Doctor. He asked Mom the normal, how I was, whether I was eating or drinking, blah blah blah. Then, much to my dismay, Mom told him about one of my deepest secrets-that in the last few days, I had been dragging my butt across the floor.

Out came a set of gloves and the Vet got behind me on the exam table. Now, I am a pretty cool dog. I never flinch when they cut my nails, or clean my ears, or prick me with needles. But soon I felt a finger going where it didn't belong and tried to leap off. I made eye contact with Mom, giving her the "HELP ME WOMAN!!!" look, but she just told me it was ok. Um, no it wasn't.

So, I did what any fine dog would do. I let out an odor right in the Doctor's face. Yup, made him gag.

He said Mom wouldn't let me in the car smelling like I did, so he had to spray my hiney with some good smelling stuff. I bet he ran and threw up after that.

That will teach him to do anything to my special glands again.

Once again, I retain my title as "stinky butt".

I.Love.Camping.

There, I said it. I love camping.

Mom and Dad took me on quite the adventure this weekend. We went to a place called Green Ridge State Forest. The two hour car ride wasn't so much fun, especially since I didn't know where I was going. Plus, those mountain roads didn't look a thing like the roads I am used to!

But then we arrived, and I was soon met with a feast for the eyes...miles and miles of seclusion.

Would you believe that all day and night long, Mom and Dad stayed outside with me? Little old me! For the night time, we did sleep in this thing they called a tent, but it was still outside like. And they had a special mattress filled with air that was very nice for my tired bones.

I got to do so much investigating. Mom took me everywhere. We hiked and walked, and ran, and chased and did it all! Since the weather had been very rainy, there were a ton of puddles that were great for diving in. Mom didn't even care.

I was such a good girl, too and hung around the humans the whole time.

By the second night there, when we went to bed, I fell onto the special mattress and fell asleep immediately with my tongue hanging out. I heard the laughter of Mom and Dad, but I didn't care. Vanity is no match for exhaustion.

Life is back to normal, but hopefully we can go to this camping place again real soon!

A letter to God, from my Mommy.

Dearest Pals,

My Mom wrote this on Catster about my feline sister Eleanor. Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers.

Dear God,

This is Eleanor's Mom writing. I wanted to send you a little note about my girl, who is now in your care.

I had to unexpectadly send her to you last night. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. My girl, my heart, my soul was supposed to be with me forever, not just 8 and a half years. She was my first you know. For a whole year, it was just us two. Eleanor and Mom. Two peas in a pod.

Eleanor was more than a cat to me. She was truly my soul mate. We could look at each other and read the other's thoughts. I always knew what she was thinking, and she seemed to read me as well.

She was the smartest animal I have ever known. She really did think her feline and canine siblings were beneath her, and to tell you the truth, they really were. Often times, when Annie or Luna would be doing something silly, Eleanor and I would make eye contact, and it was as if she was saying "get a load of this moron".

Eleanor was the cat that made "non-cat people" lovers. I met her adopted father when she was three, and he took to her immediately even though he initially told me he didn't like cats. He is taking her loss very hard as well.

For me, I feel like a piece of my heart has been ripped out. She was my cat. I went to pick her out of a litter, and all scattered in different directions when I walked into the room. I scooped down and picked one up, the runt. All the others were big, meaty, beautiful tuxedo kittens. I looked at this one in my hands, this skinny, scrawny calico with hair sticking out in every direction, and it was love at first sight.

I told her that when I held her last night, as she was dying God. I hope she heard me.

Please tell her I didn't know she was sick. I promise I didn't. She was just at her Vet check up about two months ago. I never knew she had a clot forming. I didn' tknow she'd have a stroke.

Last night, when she came out of the bedroom, dragging her back leg behind her, I thought it was just hurt. I assumed she jumped off something. I rushed her to the Emergency Vet, and told her the whole way she'd be fine. Please God, tell her I am sorry. I tried. I really did.

Words can't describe what I felt when that Vet came in to tell me the news, that she was shutting down. I never in my wildest dreams thought I'd be bringing my beautiful girl there to die that night. Silly me, I asked for an x-ray. I hoped and prayed that maybe, just maybe, the vets were wrong and she really did just have an injury.

They obliged me, but soon told me that without a doubt, she had thrown a clot, and was going down fast.

Please tell her that signing my name to that paper, allowing them to send her to you, was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do. I did it for her though. She was suffering. My girl didn't deserve that.

When they sedated her and brought her to me, I held her for what felt like a short eternity, just like a baby. It wasn't her though. She was still breathing, but her whole body was limp, and her eyes were glazed over. I told her everything I could think of at that moment, how much I loved her, how much she meant to me, and how my world was going to fall apart without her. Then they came in, and gave her the injection into her IV. She passed within seconds.

I left my girl's body there. I am going to have her cremated and her ashes returned. I couldn't bear the thought of brining home her lifeless shell. It was too much for me.

So God, she is in your hands. I told her this, but just so you know, when I make it to you one day, I hope she is the first one I see.

In the mean time, she likes to be scratched on her cheek, and sometimes under her chin. She also loves playing with pennies, boxes, bags, and those feather toys at the end of a stick. Please don't try to rub her belly, unless you want to bleed. Or give her a bath. She once ripped down a shower curtain when I tried to give her one.

Also, if she can lend a little support to her surviving siblings, especially her feline sister Annie. Eleanor was a surrogate mother to her, and Annie has never known life as the only cat. She misses her already.

And tell her that Mom dreamt about her all night last night, and that when the sun came up this morning, she cried really hard because it was the first morning she has faced without her girl.

Please God, love my baby as much as I do. I don't know how I am going to make it without her.