Emmett ~ So Short A Life, So Great A Love
Emmett was a beautiful sweet cat who died too young of a random illness. Roy wrote, "I sat at the end of the table and looked him in the eyes and purred and repeated "good puss" as I watched him fade into the distance. It was a sad moment in time to see such a beautiful sweet animal die. I wanted him to know that he was loved as he went to the next place. What Emmett taught me. ~There is no such thing as too much affection. ~Be excited to see everyone when they walk in the door. ~When someone cries, hold them close. ~When someone hurts help them to not hurt. No matter what. ~Kiss people you love for no reason. Even on the nose. ~If someone is hungry, feed them. ~Purr really hard when you're happy, even though it hurts. ~Say goodbye if you have to, but only when you have to. ~ Roy C. "

Ezzy
I guess I had hope when maybe I shouldn't have had hope, according to what everyone was telling me about the fate of all my foster kittens when it was learned Momma had lukemia. But I couldn't help it. I just had to give them the chance to live! Even after it was learned the first kitten to die had died of FIP (peritinitis) I still just had to give the rest of them a chance to make a life of it, no matter how small the chance was. I had to do this for one reason and one reason only... because I am convinced that that animals life means just as much to it as my life means to me. And it is for this reason that I tell you that Ezzy's (Ezmrlda) fight for life came to an end today. She was the last of her Momma Windi's four kittens. I really thougt Ezzy was gonna defy the odds. She did great for her five months of life except for these last couple of weeks that she just couldn't fight off that terrible illness anymore. Two weeks ago I saw it coming but still I wanted to give her the cance to fight it thinking she might just have a virus or stomach upset or something making her not want to eat much. But then today when I went to give her love and she had trouble walking I knew it was time. I couldn't let her suffer any more in the hopes she'll get better. The meds the Vet had given her last week weren't helping. I only hope the pain meds were doing it's job. So I put her in the carrier alone for the first time (I always took along a sibling when I took one of them to the Vet), called Jackie and asked her to tell the Vet I'm on my way in. Once at the vet they put me in a room where I took Ezzy out of the carrier. A tech came in and put some towels down on the exam table and asked me if I wanted to be present. I said "no, but I'm gonna be." You see, with the other three kittens they wouldn't let me be present because when they asked if I wanted to be, I guess I got too emotional and they thought it better I not be present. But with Ezzy I insisted that I be there becaue I am the only person these kittens have ever known and I somehow think my presence might ease their pain in passing at least a little. So the tech left the room saying they'll be back in a few. Now I sit all alone with my little Ezzy, holding her tiny body against my chest just under my chin. We must've been alone in that room for several minutes and she never lifted her head from resting it on my arm during the entire time except for one 5 second moment. It was in the middle of that long talk I had with Ezzy, almost at the end of it. See, I was just telling her how very much I love her, how I was so proud to have been a part of her short little 5 month life. But when I told her "if there was anything I should've done but didn't, anything I could've done but didn't, or anything I didn't do but should have, I am so terribly sorry, Ezzy. I really am. I'm so sorry." And it was at that exact moment that she lifted her head from resting on my arm and looked me straight in the eyes and somehow, and I don't know how, but somehow she told me "it's ok". And with that she rested her little head back on my arm. Then a few minutes later the tech and the vet came into the room and I laid little Ezzy on her side on the towels. They asked again if I wanted to be present and I said I have to. So the tech scruffed Ezzy and held her upper back leg and the Vet held her bottom rear leg and inserted the needle. He was having trouble finding a vein and as Ezzy squirmed and fought them I put my head down to hers and carressed her little head saying "it's ok, baby. Don't fight it. We're just trying to make your pain and suffering go away so you can go chasing little bunnies in kitty heaven. Please just let go, Baby. Just let go." Then Ezzy stopped fighting and I knew it was over. The Vet pulled out the needle and put his stethescope to her heart and said all he hears are just the last few, faint heartbeats. So they left the room and gave me the last few moments I'll ever have with my Ezzy. I stroked her now calm and soft fur and told her how sorry I am that she didn't really get to experience too much of a good cat life. I told her I'll see her, I know I'll see her again some day. And when that day comes we will run and play together and I'll show her how much fun it can be to be a kitty cat. Moments later the tech came back in and gave me a polite condolence hug then softly scooped up the towels with my little Ezzy inside and carried her off to be cremated and her ashes sprinkled on a specially reserved place. I grabbed my now empty crate and left the hospital for the fourth and last time, now having put to sleep every single last one of Momma Cat Windi's kittens. I've shed more tears in these last five months than in any other time in my life. And I wouldn't change a thing. For I am a FOSTER.