Angels come in different forms

Today (well technically yesterday) was third year anniversary of my dear cat Roxy's passing onto St. Francis' side. Gosh, talk about events that make me extremely emotional.

Back in the day when I was in college, I moved to a small town in Pennsylvania temporarily. My boyfriend at the time moved there to live in his mom's house during the summer break and I followed. I have to say that it was one of the unhappiest times of my life. I don't know how it is there now and I can only speak from my own experience, but I faced much ignorance, racism and loneliness and felt trapped even though it was only for a couple of months. I cried at the drop of a pin all the time. As dramatic as it sounds, I didn't know how to help myself to be happy again.

Seeing me this way must have hurt my boyfriend at the time tremendously. So he suggested getting kittens. As random as it was, it sounded good to me, even though I was never big on cats and had always considered myself a dog person. So off we went to check out a pet shop in the nearby mall. I would only adopt from animal shelters now, but we didn't know any better back then. And there they were. A cage filled with adorable kittens.

I've always wanted a sassy tiger-looking cat. He always liked anything unique. And we found exactly that. I named my tiger kitten Ninochika after hearing that it meant "dark night," and he named his silly looking kitten with long legs Roxy after a lesbian stalker character in Basic Instinct, because she too had long white boots on. My life in PA got better instantly. Ironically, Ninochika whom I picked became my boyfriend's favorite and Roxy became mine. I couldn't stop admiring them, they just warmed my heart with their adorable, loving and funny ways.

Fast forward 13 years, here I was, a 31 year old grown up. So many things have happened, good and bad, but I always had them by my side. I had parted ways with my boyfriend, but Roxy and Ninochika stayed right by my side. And at the end of each day, thanks to them, I felt stronger, kinder and more patient. Their warmth had continued to help me get through rough times, and the happier times were even happier because of them. We were family.

It was by far the roughest week of my life. And I've been robbed at a gun point, but that didn't even come close to what I went through during this particular week. One day, Roxy tripped. She was always on the clumsy side, but my gut feeling told me something was not normal. So I took her to the Vet ER immediately. Even then, I never for one second thought that she would never come home. After all, she had been just fine.

That Saturday in February 2008, she was diagnosed with Leukemia and was admitted into ICU. She stopped eating and got increasingly weaker as time went by. She lost her funny lively self and it was as if her soul left her body.

In the beginning of this emotional roller coaster week, I was extremely determined to keep her alive, no matter how much it costed to "save" her. I was even willing to change job to afford her treatment. I absolutely refused to euthanize her. How could I possibly kill my own family member? I had to face so many intense questions about life and death, and I had no choice but to keep asking myself because time was running out. I couldn't sleep or eat, I also felt as if I was losing myself. 

In my near insanity stage, I came to a realization that felt somewhat sane. That animals don't fear death. It's me who's scared to death to lose her. It would be selfish of me to extend her life as she is now. Animals don't live off of tubes. It's not natural and what's not natural is probably not intended by God. I need to let her go.

It felt as if I needed to jump off of a cliff but was too horrified to. As I was looking at Roxy, not even able to stand up on her own, I told myself that the last gift that I could give to her was peace. And to be there right by her side as she departed.

I don't know how long I spent in that room alone with her at the Animal Hospital. I just couldn't let her go but I knew I had to, but I just couldn't. I was near hyperventilation. I prayed, prayed and prayed and prayed some more until I finally calmed down a little bit. Then I called the vet into the room.

When the last shot was injected, Roxy left us peacefully to be with Saint Francis. Thank you, Roxy, for everything. I am ever so grateful that you were in my life. I will never ever forget about you and our time together. Please watch over me from heaven. I already miss you so much, but I will come to your side soon enough. I love you so dearly. Words just failed to describe how I felt.

Even after she passed, I couldn't leave her side. I lingered while kissing her forehead repeatedly. I never thought that I was this weak. What do I do without you? I wish we could spend more time together.

I missed Roxy so much I cried and cried and cried till I thought I was going to bleed from my eyes. The memories of her attacked me in waves that I couldn't function well. I was even surprised by how devastating it was and what a huge impact her death had on me, it was much greater than I ever imagined.

So that was three years ago. I'm often amazed by how quickly time passes by. I can remember it like it was yesterday, but at the same time it feels like it happened a long time ago. So many more things have happened since then. I even adopted a funny crazy cat that I named Zoe, which apparently means Life in Greek. Ninochika is still going strong by my side and still putting up with me. Now I look back, I am grateful that I had something I held so dear to my heart. I saw God in people when I was going through all of this as well. My family, friends, all the staff at the Animal Hospital, my bosses and coworkers at the time all showed such amazing level of compassion and support. Each one of them was gracious enough to share their personal stories of their loss and none of them looked down on me for reacting the way I did over an animal. In many respect, I feel that I am at a much better place in my life, and a big part of it is because of love.

Rest in peace, Roxy. Say hello to St. Francis for me, I hope he lets you lick Häagen-Dazs Strawberry ice cream once in a while. I love you.