tlcwrites
Mama Doe
Oh Beezie boy.
You'd been in the neighbourhood for so long and we'd intermittently fed you every once in a while. We called you Felix because we didn't know your name. Just an affectionate nickname for the neighbourhood's small beggar/stray. I know that other people in the neighbourhood have fed you over the years, too, not just us.
You started coming around for food even more frequently October last year. We fed you because you were skinny. Because it seemed that nobody else would. Because we cared. Because it was the right thing to do.
On Hallowe'en, you turned up and had a bite on your leg. We fed you, as always, and put you back outside. You came back in the afternoon for your tea. It was getting dark, and being a black cat, I knew what the risks were with idiots around. Superstitions can do so much damage. We brought you in, but "just for the night".
"Just for the night" turned into being "a permanent member of the family" when I saw the bite marks on the back of your neck. You looked like you'd been mauled by a dog. You might well have been. We called you Beelzebub or Beezle for short because you arrived on Hallowe'en. Because my brother knew your "old" owners called you Diesel. But that very quickly got shortened to Beezie, Beeze, and eventually Bee.
You were so sweet, funny, loving. You'd eat almost anything given to you - even cabbage over Christmas! You tried to share our chairs at Christmas dinner in order to get your share of what was on offer. You were so friendly with anyone and always needed to be near people. You had the biggest eyes and ears and the most soul-penetrating gaze of any cat I have ever known.
We had to surrender you to a local charity today after a fight with Brannigan. It was the worst decision I've had to make in a long while. Finding out that you were FIV+ and in obvious discomfort makes it worse. The most awful bit of the whole situation is that I couldn't be there for you as you passed on. I'm so, so sorry boy. I had no idea. If I had, I'd have been there for you. I'd have fought tooth and nail for you.
I know you weren't alone, though. And that you'd already charmed people at the charity. I know that the lady responsible for taking you in, in particular, was heartbroken too. We all are here.
It's a small comfort. You deserved so much better throughout your whole life, and instead you were continually let down.
I'm so, so, so sorry.
You'd been in the neighbourhood for so long and we'd intermittently fed you every once in a while. We called you Felix because we didn't know your name. Just an affectionate nickname for the neighbourhood's small beggar/stray. I know that other people in the neighbourhood have fed you over the years, too, not just us.
You started coming around for food even more frequently October last year. We fed you because you were skinny. Because it seemed that nobody else would. Because we cared. Because it was the right thing to do.
On Hallowe'en, you turned up and had a bite on your leg. We fed you, as always, and put you back outside. You came back in the afternoon for your tea. It was getting dark, and being a black cat, I knew what the risks were with idiots around. Superstitions can do so much damage. We brought you in, but "just for the night".
"Just for the night" turned into being "a permanent member of the family" when I saw the bite marks on the back of your neck. You looked like you'd been mauled by a dog. You might well have been. We called you Beelzebub or Beezle for short because you arrived on Hallowe'en. Because my brother knew your "old" owners called you Diesel. But that very quickly got shortened to Beezie, Beeze, and eventually Bee.
You were so sweet, funny, loving. You'd eat almost anything given to you - even cabbage over Christmas! You tried to share our chairs at Christmas dinner in order to get your share of what was on offer. You were so friendly with anyone and always needed to be near people. You had the biggest eyes and ears and the most soul-penetrating gaze of any cat I have ever known.
We had to surrender you to a local charity today after a fight with Brannigan. It was the worst decision I've had to make in a long while. Finding out that you were FIV+ and in obvious discomfort makes it worse. The most awful bit of the whole situation is that I couldn't be there for you as you passed on. I'm so, so sorry boy. I had no idea. If I had, I'd have been there for you. I'd have fought tooth and nail for you.
I know you weren't alone, though. And that you'd already charmed people at the charity. I know that the lady responsible for taking you in, in particular, was heartbroken too. We all are here.
It's a small comfort. You deserved so much better throughout your whole life, and instead you were continually let down.
I'm so, so, so sorry.
