When I first found you as a kitten, my daughter Erin was alive and was 3 years old.. You were a classic torti, complete with attitude. You really only liked me. Ok, later you liked John too. You slept by my head, between me and the edge of the bed. You tried to bite everyone, not very hard, but enough to scare them. Everyone knew all the cats were friendly, but NOT THAT ONE!

For some reason, you decided that the bathroom was yours, and you scratched any one who wasn't me that entered that domain. We had to put you in the bedroom before any house guests could use the facilities. Erin would always ask if we were keeping you, because at first we didn't know how you would fit in with the rest of the pets. There wasn't any particular day that we "decided" to keep you, but it became apparent after some time, that we were. LIttle did I know that we wouln't be keeping Erin.

When Erin died, there was a physical presence that was missing and you made sure to sleep right up against me in bed for a time, and that turned into your regular spot. You laid in bed with me when my hips were falling apart and I was in great pain, you laid there when I was recovering from having them replaced. When your joints started to get stiff, we put a child's chair next to the bed so you could use it climb up easier. After a while, you had a hard time getting up the stairs to the bedroom, and we made the library your room, that's where we spent most of our time. We opened and closed the doors for you at least a hundred times a day. for you to come in and out, altho half the time I think you forgot why and where you going.

I know that you stayed around here much longer than you wanted to because I did not want you to go. You were the last cat alive here who knew Erin. All of our kitties now came after she died. I know that you two are together now in spirit along with many others who have gone before. I know that Erin is taking care of all the kitties we have to send over the Rainbow Bridge, including the ones she never knew in life.

The chair is still by the bed, I swear I still hear you bonking the door to get in the library, and I see you out of the corner of my eye sometimes. You were with me for over half of my adult life and it seems strange to go on without you, but we have to. I know we will be together again someday, but in the meantime, don't forget to let them know who's in charge over there........I love you Tippy.....Norma

I have been feeding a stray all winter, and have been trying to make friends with him.  Jeff and I named him Mr. Kimball.  Mr. Kimball was a beautiful brown tabby with white paws and a white chest.  He would not get close to me all winter, but came around to eat every night.

  My neighbor, Susan H., and her son, Tom, fed Mr. Kimball, too.  A couple of weeks ago he somehow became injured.  He could not use his left front paw.  He started getting closer to me, but was very growly and hissy, I now know from all of the pain he was in.  He was too smart for a live trap, so Jeff and I would sit on the front step and talk to him while he ate.  I was determined to get him to the vet, some how/some way this weekend, which I did.

I gave Plainfield Animal Care Center a heads up, that I was going to get Mr. Kimball in this weekend.  All of a sudden, I was able to pet Mr. Kimball, although he and I were both very leery of each other.  So, Friday night, I got brave and picked Mr. Kimball up, and carried him to the cage I had previously set up in our garage for him.  He was so happy to be safe and sound in the cage Friday night, and I was so grateful he was in there before the bad weather hit again on Friday night

Sat. morning, I called my vet, got Mr. Kimball in a carrier (he went in there willingly) and I took him to the vet.  I know this story is long, and I could go on and on, but long story short, Mr. Kimball had a crushed paw.  Vet is not sure how it happened.  Vet said that we had two choices for Mr. Kimball.  Amputate his leg (even with the antibiotics that you gave me, Norma, he was full of infection), or euthanize Mr. Kimball....  Well, I had to make the horrible decision to euthanize him.  He could never ever have gone back outside again, and unfortunately, I had no place for him, for obvious reasons, ie Jeff and I have a full house.  Susan H. so very generously offered to pay for the extremely costly surgery, but unfortunately she has a full house too.  Not to mention, the quality of life Mr. Kimball would have had with a missing leg.  Also, we never got to the blood work stage, so he may have even had a disease, which we will never know.  The beautiful thing is that Susan Laird is now taking care of him.  The sad news is that in the short time I knew Mr. Kimball, I got attached to him and cared about him, and yes, even loved him.  I am crying again, now, but can only hope that Mr. Kimball knew how much I loved him, and neighbor Susan did, too... - Brenda

Waffle, you had a hard time in your short life here on earth, and for that I feel sad. I wish you could have told me what happened to you before you came to me, and if I could have fixed it for you, I would have. I hope your last few months were happy, and that you didn’t feel any pain at the end. Your little spirit is free now, and your bad memories erased. Try to play nice with the other kitties at the bridge - they really are your friends - and I’ll see you again one day.

I miss you, Waff-man.

Love,
Your foster mom, Kim

You came into my life as a foster kitty on May 2nd, 2005, with a reputation for being an "escape artist". You lived with Susan's neighbors and Susan would often find you wandering in her back yard. Susan would pick you up and carry you back home "purring all the way". Then the purring stopped when you had to go back inside.

When Susan's neighbors had a new baby, they had to put you up for adoption. I volunteered to take you in. You were living in my "foster room" alone until one evening when I was feeding my cats. Somehow, you managed to climb over the gate, come downstairs, and with a loud "MEOW", which startled both me and my cats, announced that you wanted to join the group.

From then on, you were one of the "family". My cats all accepted you immediately and on September 25th of 2005 I made it official, and adopted you.

Rachel, my sweetheart, you were easily one the most gentle and easy going cats that ever lived, even when you went through many nights in the hospital and much medication. You managed to accept it all. I know it wasn't easy for you.

Rest in peace, my precious one. I will always love you. - Bob and the kitties

Hope went to the Rainbow Bridge this morning at 8:30. We are very sad, but we are so happy that she was in our lives for the time we had her. She was very spunky and enjoyed her short life to the fullest until she got sick. We loved her very much. It was a difficult night and morning, but glad Hope is not feeling sick anymore. - Norma

Hope

Babycakes was a very sweet cat who got along with every cat in our home. She was very sweet and loving to every one in our home. She taught patience and love to those around her. We were very fortunate to have had her in our lives. She received much love from those who took care of her and knew she was in our home to stay. She will be missed by all who knew her.
With Love,
George, Sue, Shirley Wisz and all our kitties

Frankie

You were my “scaredy cat”, which is how you got the name Boo. Born in a factory to a feral mom, you came here when you were only 3 months old. It took a year’s worth of patience until you finally accepted a pet from me – but only one hand! Two hands made you very nervous, and made you run and hide. Gradually, you realized that I would never do anything to hurt you. Even though you remained somewhat skittish, you knew I loved you.

We made great progress together, you finally seeking out attention, in your little subtle way, by sitting behind me on the bed, while I was typing on the computer, and making cute little mews when I would turn around to pet you, learning to enjoy being brushed with the Furminator, and even letting me clean the goopy eye you would get every once in a while, without a fuss. Lately, when you would sit on the floor, eyeing my lap, I was sure that soon you would get the confidence to jump up like the other kitties do. Sadly, that was not to be, something happened in your little body that caused you to get really sick. After a few days you weren't getting any better, so I made the decision to not let you suffer any longer, and to let you go to a better place. I was so happy that when they brought you in to me at the hospital for our last moments together, you snuggled right up to me, and seemed very content and happy. You weren't afraid, even with all the strangers around you.

Julie Boo

Holly Dolly

Winston

Little One was surely the Energizer Bunny of cats. She was abandoned in front of a pet store in Sept., 2002, about six (6) weeks before her 15th birthday. The initial vet check uncovered several age related problems. The vet thought she'd live about six months. He didn't know Little One! Through thyroid surgery, Chronic Renal Failure, multiple urinary track infections, kitty Alzheimer's, and finally blindness, she just kept going. One of Little One's favorite activities was snoozing on her heated cat bed. After a while the other cats discovered it, so we just put up more beds. We ended up with four heated beds and cats enjoying them all. If necessary, we'd shoo a cat off so Little One could have the bed. And she was ready to play "toss" every morning. Toss is a little game we play with the cats at breakfast time. We pitch pieces of dry food and the cats run after them, capture, then eat them. As long as we tossed a piece so it hit one of Little One's feet, she would find it even though she couldn't see. Little One showed us love, courage, determination, and perseverance. She was 21 yrs old when she went to the Rainbow Bridge.

I will love you forever, Little One, and I miss you so much.

Clara

Benjamin

To My Sweet Laila Baby girl, I'm so sorry you weren't here long enough to find your forever family. In your all too short life, I was the lucky one to be your "forever" mom. I love you, and I hope you are healthy and happy now, and have found some of the kitties that went there before you. I'll meet you at the bridge one day. I will love you and think of you always, and will miss your purrs, your sweet personality, your beautiful, shiny black fur and your big, golden eyes. Love, Your Foster Mom

After a very long week, Norma and I took her to RH this evening. I had taken her in Monday for another blood count (10) and fluids, after she quit eating again. Her weight had dropped to 6.6 lbs. By Wednesday night, she hadn't perked up, and seemed to be really not feeling well at all. I talked to Dr Bunn and agreed that it was time to let her go. She doesn't work Thursday, and I really wanted her to be there, so we planned for Friday, unless she really went downhill Thursday. She hung on, but late Thursday night I weighed her and she was down to 6 lbs, and her purr/breathing started sounding funny, kind of raspy and hoarse. Coincidentally, today is two months to the day that she was diagnosed. She left us very peacefully, cradled on my lap in a blanket, with me holding her little head and stroking her frail body, and Norma scratching the top of her head, between her ears. Now she is free, and hopefully has found all the kitties we told her to look for when she got there. Norma and I each got a pawprint and a swatch of her fur. I'm very sad right now, but also relieved that she no longer has to suffer. She fought really hard to stay with us, but it wasn't meant to be. Laila would have been 11 months old Easter Sunday. Kim

Laila

Gaston

Benjamin

My beloved Ashe boy, I know you can't really hear me in words, so I'll write this for the humans instead, and I know you'll hear me somehow. Ashe, I love you so much. I helped you find your way back from the brink of death once, even tho you resisted me at every turn, and you've lived here for several years, in my heart, and also the more traditional ways. You only talk to me, with the exception of Jeff and Brenda. You were never demanding or pushy, you were ready to take whatever attention you could claim for yourself. You put up with me trying to ingratiate you to me, which only worked on your own schedule. Some how you convinced Amy to rescue you out of the street, and the vets at RH to do surgery, teach me how to tube feed you, and then do subQ fluids, neither did I want to learn. And neither did you want to experience.....I won't be able to look at the chair in the living room without thinking of you curled up there every night. I also won't be able to sit out on the back porch at night with out you crossing my mind. You and I spent so many nights out there alone together during the tube feeding times. Sometimes I would fall asleep out there with you in the bed that is still there today. You're the only reason that we have a whole cat habitat out there. Even though you are alive right now upstairs in my closet on the floor, I know you will cross over soon, and I won't stand in your way any longer. I only take comfort in the fact that there are four of my children on the other side waiting for you, as well as a lot of other animals, and they will love you as much as I do..........I have many other cats here tonight that I love just as much as I love you, but none that I want to be with so badly. You have a special place in my heart, and I will see you again. Have a safe trip my friend. Godspeed.

Monday, Ashe died, went to the Rainbow Bridge. He couldn't keep his oral meds down, so I stopped giving them to him, and we had a peaceful night, and slept in bed together all day Monday with no medical intervention except pain meds. He went in his pillowbed to River Heights instead of a scary carrier and Dr Pocius did an ultrasound just to allay our fears of doing this prematurely (do we ever stop questioning ourselves?), as in maybe he just ate the scissors and we can just remove them and all will be fine..... She found a baseball sized mass in his abdomen that none of us knew about. He almost certainly had cancer. This was inhibiting his organs, and therefore his symptoms, so the meds weren't really helping. It was very hard to detect the mass manually because of it's location, and was completely inoperable. Afterwards, Dr P. stayed late to do the necropsy. We are very sad, but releived that his suffering is over. Amy and Dr P. were great. I know some of this rambling is confusing, especailly to the "non-cat" people, but I chose to send it to you because you are important in my life. When I wrote to Ashe, he was still alive, but I knew he was going to be put down the next day. Norma

Ashe

Lil Bubba

Inky