I'm sitting in a folding club chair, curled up, holding my Shadow kitty. He is sleeping and completely content in my arms. And I'm trying to not cry, he's still here. He's not gone yet. He's so thin that I'm remembering the day I took him home. I know I wrote about it in my prior diary. That day.
I was in a therapy session. And I'd mentioned tomy counselor that me and my mom were wanting to get a kitty. And the counselor immediately got happy and said there is a girl cat who seems homeless that her and a neighbor has been feeding and giving water to that week. And she went out to see if he was outside. And she said 'shea out here, come see her'
I went to her patio and he was snuggled against the wall, belly up with all 4 feet in the air. And I knealt down on the ground and said hello to him and he looked up at me and got up and he literally put his front paws on my lap and leaned into me...like he was saying 'im here, I'm yours'.
And I picked him up. He was skin nad bones like he is now. And I do the rest of the session with him sleeping curled up in my lap. And when my mom came back, I said 'guess what, we have a kitty!'
My therapist had a petco box we took him home in. We had nothing, we thought he was a girl, so we ran across the street to to the grocery store to get supplies. Everything pink. Because he was a girl.
A couple weeks later he was well-fed, and healthier. I'm so grateful for these 16 years. He stayed. And he's still trying to stay. He's really sick. But he wants to stay. I'm trying, but I don't know if what I'm doing is even helping.
I wish I could stop time right now and just feel his snuggle and soft fur in my arms and across my belly forever.
When I say his name he moves the tip of the tail like he always did.
I love him so much.