Five years ago she gazed into my eyes through her pair of shining, beautiful, emerald green windows to her soul and my life would never be the same.
From the moment I laid eyes on her and touched her furry little white belly, all I ever wanted to do was protect her and love her and rescue her from the abandonment where we found her in a cage waiting for a home and someone to love.
I didn’t want a cat.
Let me make that very clear from the outset. Anyone who knows me, knows this is a fact.
Some of you might not like cats or understand cats or have ever had a cat but I sincerely hope that you’ve felt the power of the love of an animal once in your life. Our story is about a transcendent little girl that we rescued from Baltimore Humane in 2012 but who, in the end, rescued us and taught me more about unconditional love than any other experience in my nearly half a century on this planet.
We lost our beloved Kitty while we were with the Ravens in Europe on our WNST.net trip. Her sudden and completely unexpected death on Thursday has shaken us to the core.
My wife is distraught over her death. She would tell you that I am doing far worse.
I am unspeakably shaken, more so than when I lost my mother back on August 15th. We prepared and knew for years that my Mom would be leaving us soon. Somehow, we never, ever considered losing Kitty.
I’m experiencing a sense of profound loss and sadness that I would’ve thought impossible when we adopted a cat known only as “Bree” back on April 16, 2012. It’s been an incredibly awful month for me – a time of sadness and sorrow and loss that I’ll never want to remember but know that I’ll never forget.
If you would’ve told me that my wife’s relentless desire for an animal over the first decade of our marriage would lead me to this emotional black hole of emptiness and incredible appreciation for her precious and wonderful life, I would’ve never believed you.
My wife always wanted a cat for us. Honestly, I never understood that emotional grip even though I had a cat named Poe back in the early 1990s long before the Ravens existed. He was a Balinese, peaceful blue-eyed beauty who I adored but loved only in the finite way a 20-something man could love a creature that didn’t have curves, perfume and human characteristics.
Jenn and I were married in the summer of 2003 and I was allergic to her cat, Spencer. Two months into our marriage, she gave her cat to a veterinarian here in Baltimore and Spencer lived a fine life but I realize now that I never truly understood her relationship or her emotional parting with her
