Faded Dust
I know that in life there are some things you never want to let go. Some thing or some one that you never knew was so important to you until the day that they are not with you anymore. She sits and remains in the office in a little tan urn next to a very stunning and well captured photo of her. In the photograph she was laying down on the rug that lied out on the kitchen floor at my old house in Highland, Indiana. Her fur was curled outwards with gray fur at the end and gray fur towards the base that faded into black. Now where we put her urn was an odd place and I don't believe that she was happy where we placed her either. Above her urn and photograph on the upper shelf were the two urns of my step-dads dogs. As any other cat she wasn't too fond of many dogs but for the ones that she was fond of she had seen for years and had adapted to how those certain dogs treat her.
It was the labor day of the year 2012, I remember eating lunch with some close friends at school knowing that in the next hour or two my parents and I were heading down to the Vets office. We had to put down my cat, and her name was Dusty. She had whiskers that stretched for miles and fur that felt of a ton of feathers. Most of her body was gray with black towards her little feet, she even had a small patch of white that sat in the center of her head between her ears. I would play with it sometimes to find out if there was ever an end to her cute bunch of white fur but I would always gather a small ball of fur with every pluck of her white patch.
When lunch was over I had walked out to the parking lot and I had seen my Mom pull up in the Windstar minivan, a faded blue with a muffled engine you could here from a quarter mile. I looked toward the back and saw Dusty in a little black cage as she tried to claw at the metal bars. After I sat down in the front seat I asked my Mom if I could take Dusty out and pet her on the way over to the Vets office. She had softly glanced over at me and just shook her head.
About two weeks before Labor day my family had found out that during some time while nobody was watching Dusty, she had accidentally injured herself and severed the nerves in her right leg. They estimated that she would only have a couple of weeks to live. I couldn't put my cat through anymore pain or suffering, so I knew what had to be done. Five or six minutes passed and we had arrived at the Vets office where my step-dad Joe was waiting up for us.
I walked into the operating room, cradling Dusty in my arms while I kissed her forehead a myriad amount of times, and saw a handful of silver-top tables. I knew she was as terrified as I was by the way her hair stood up on my fingertips. My eyes were draining like faucets, pouring out tears that cascaded onto her plush fur.
When we came to the table where she was to be laid down upon I took a moment to myself to hold onto her close to my face, whispering in her ear that no matter what I will always remember you and I will always love you.
As I recall the Vet said to me while explaining what process was going to be done to my cat, "The process is quite fast and painless actually." As fast and painless as he made the procedure sound, it never made it painless on me. So as we had lied her down, my hands caressed her face, cherishing every passing moment. The first needle was taken out of its sleeve and set against her skin, slowly penetrating her body tissue. The injection numbs her body so for the last moments I was able to say my last words to her and rest my cheeks on hers. I looked towards her face before they injected the next and final needle. Her eyes were vibrating at a rapid pace as her claws came out and were scratching the metal table. My mother tapped my shoulder as she instructed I should move away for the veterinarian to give Dusty her last needle, it would bring her bodily functions to a decreased rate until she was considered deceased. I watched intently as I held back a floodgate of tears, the needle was injected slowly and as the last drop left the syringe I flung toward her. My hands fell on her sides as I tried to feel for a beat but there was no pulse.
After two long minutes sobbing over Dusty we had left the Vets office and returned home in silence. On the way home it began to rain and the roads were clear of vehicles. About a month passed after my cats death and my Mom decided that she should take me to Petland. I wasn't too thrilled for the idea but I decided to tag along. We looked through the windows for just the right animal to pick out, turning around the corner took us to the cages of cats. A single black cat was sleeping in the cage closest to me and I couldn't resist reaching in and holding the little black cat in my arms. I crept into the cage and picked the little cat up and held it against my chest. I smiled. My Mom walked over to me and suggested if we'd take the little guy with us. I gave a small sigh and put the cat back in its cage. Shrugging off towards my Mom I continued to walk around the pet store. Later I told her that I wouldn't want another cat for a while, maybe some time soon but not now.
It was the labor day of the year 2012, I remember eating lunch with some close friends at school knowing that in the next hour or two my parents and I were heading down to the Vets office. We had to put down my cat, and her name was Dusty. She had whiskers that stretched for miles and fur that felt of a ton of feathers. Most of her body was gray with black towards her little feet, she even had a small patch of white that sat in the center of her head between her ears. I would play with it sometimes to find out if there was ever an end to her cute bunch of white fur but I would always gather a small ball of fur with every pluck of her white patch.
When lunch was over I had walked out to the parking lot and I had seen my Mom pull up in the Windstar minivan, a faded blue with a muffled engine you could here from a quarter mile. I looked toward the back and saw Dusty in a little black cage as she tried to claw at the metal bars. After I sat down in the front seat I asked my Mom if I could take Dusty out and pet her on the way over to the Vets office. She had softly glanced over at me and just shook her head.
About two weeks before Labor day my family had found out that during some time while nobody was watching Dusty, she had accidentally injured herself and severed the nerves in her right leg. They estimated that she would only have a couple of weeks to live. I couldn't put my cat through anymore pain or suffering, so I knew what had to be done. Five or six minutes passed and we had arrived at the Vets office where my step-dad Joe was waiting up for us.
I walked into the operating room, cradling Dusty in my arms while I kissed her forehead a myriad amount of times, and saw a handful of silver-top tables. I knew she was as terrified as I was by the way her hair stood up on my fingertips. My eyes were draining like faucets, pouring out tears that cascaded onto her plush fur.
When we came to the table where she was to be laid down upon I took a moment to myself to hold onto her close to my face, whispering in her ear that no matter what I will always remember you and I will always love you.
As I recall the Vet said to me while explaining what process was going to be done to my cat, "The process is quite fast and painless actually." As fast and painless as he made the procedure sound, it never made it painless on me. So as we had lied her down, my hands caressed her face, cherishing every passing moment. The first needle was taken out of its sleeve and set against her skin, slowly penetrating her body tissue. The injection numbs her body so for the last moments I was able to say my last words to her and rest my cheeks on hers. I looked towards her face before they injected the next and final needle. Her eyes were vibrating at a rapid pace as her claws came out and were scratching the metal table. My mother tapped my shoulder as she instructed I should move away for the veterinarian to give Dusty her last needle, it would bring her bodily functions to a decreased rate until she was considered deceased. I watched intently as I held back a floodgate of tears, the needle was injected slowly and as the last drop left the syringe I flung toward her. My hands fell on her sides as I tried to feel for a beat but there was no pulse.
After two long minutes sobbing over Dusty we had left the Vets office and returned home in silence. On the way home it began to rain and the roads were clear of vehicles. About a month passed after my cats death and my Mom decided that she should take me to Petland. I wasn't too thrilled for the idea but I decided to tag along. We looked through the windows for just the right animal to pick out, turning around the corner took us to the cages of cats. A single black cat was sleeping in the cage closest to me and I couldn't resist reaching in and holding the little black cat in my arms. I crept into the cage and picked the little cat up and held it against my chest. I smiled. My Mom walked over to me and suggested if we'd take the little guy with us. I gave a small sigh and put the cat back in its cage. Shrugging off towards my Mom I continued to walk around the pet store. Later I told her that I wouldn't want another cat for a while, maybe some time soon but not now.
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