Yesterday was just one week short of
Tigger's second year with us. I remember the day I picked him at the
shelter. I had never had a cat before, and didn't really know what
kind of cat I wanted, except that I didn't want a ginger. I was in
the Tears kittenry for over an hour playing with the kids, and had
made up my mind on an aloof little black and white boy. All that
time there were two little ginger babies fast asleep in a hanging
basket. I decided to wake them up just to see what they were like.
It was Tigger at the bottom, and his little sister asleep on top of
him. She was not too pleased that I had disturbed her beauty sleep,
but Tigger promptly climbed up onto my lap and fell asleep there.
That was how he picked me. His wiry coat and affection melted my
resistance, I knew he was the one.
This terrible disease was probably
already in the making at that stage, but there was no way of anyone
knowing. I am happy to have given you a home for the two years that
you were destined to be here. I can still hear the little gurgling
noises you used to make when you were being playful. I can still
feel your deep resonant purring in the next room. I so wish you
would still come and greet me with a nudge and a curly tail whenever
I come home. What I would give to be woken by the sight of you
sitting on my chest staring into my eyes, gently purring me awake.
Tigger fought his illness bravely. I
aspire to attain his dignity and stoicism in dealing with adversity.
Never once did he complain or feel sorry for himself. Tigger, if I
could have borne your burden for you, I gladly would have.
Yesterday, you could fight no more. I am so sorry for any discomfort
you experienced. I wish it didn't have to end this way. You fell
asleep gently, gazing into my eyes. You are always unforgettable,
my Little Lion.
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