Over the weekend when I called my Grandma, I learned that her kitty Spotty was sick. He was hiding from her and not eating. 🙁 When I called her again, Monday morning when she woke up, Spotty had given up his fight. 🙁
My Grandma is a very strong woman. She might be a small lady but she is full of wisdom and strength not many would have. When she told me that Spotty had passed away, my heart broke listening to her. She buried him herself and it hurt to think of her having to face that task alone.
Now when I look back, I am thinking that Spotty came into our lives when I was five or six. My grandma’s Aunt had passed away and Grandpa and her had gone to Missouri to help with things. When they came home with a cat, I was ecstatic. While we have always had a laugh about his name, that night is the night that started it all. My grandparents wanted to name HIM Marguerite. At that age, I couldn’t pronounce it right and began my debate of names. I tried so hard to get them to name him Big Bird. Considering the cat was 90% white, that one just didn’t fly too well. Finally, I got my way and he became Spotty. Now, why is this funny? I have to find a picture to share with all of you but like I said, he was 90% white. His tail was black and he had black on his face. That’s it.
With Spotty gone, my Mom and I talked about how my Grandma could not be alone. Spotty had been a companion to both her and my Grandpa for approx. 20 years. While I knew she would throw a bit of a protest at first, we got her convinced it is okay to get a new cat. It’s not disrespectful to Spotty. She deserves to have a companion. It is amazing what having a pet can do for a person.
After talking to Grandma, my mom came up today and we went to look for the perfect pet for her. We had several cats we loved their personalities and I decided let’s check out a different shelter as well. Low and behold, I saw a cat that just stuck out to me. She was four years old, orange, and in the shelter because her owner had passed away.
While in the cage, she was hiding back and not coming forward. She was sad. We talked to the shelter and were able to take her in the visiting room to get a feel for her. My mom and I took turns so the girls would not stress out the cat anymore. Sure enough, within a matter of minutes, Pumpkin was in my mom’s arms.
She was the one. She had lost the one she had loved, much like Grandma. Being in a house with my Grandma would help both Pumpkin and my Grandma heal.
Welcome Home Pumpkin.