I am posting this blog with the heaviest of hearts. Last night, Kirb and I made the almost impossible decision to put our little girl, Ramona to sleep.

Ramona and I have been good chums since I was 17 years old. Late one night when my Mom and I were fast asleep in our beds in the burbs, a strange man came knocking on our door. He demanded to speak to my Father (who was no longer living with us at that point). My Mother called our trusty neighbour, Bob Taylor, and he managed to scare the perp away. In her panic, Mom declared that she'd get us a dog... A few days passed and my Brother called saying that his friend was looking for a home for their kitty, Fluffy - and just a few days later, Fluffy was ours (although, in serious need of a name change). I went to the library and checked out a book of baby names and what they mean. Thumbing through it, I came across, "Ramona - The mighty and wise protector." Fluffy finally had a name that really suited her.

Years went by and Ramona was always there - loafing around with me when I'd watch TV, and sleeping on one half of the pillow fort I'd make us each night before bed. She never judged me, always had my back, and would attack without mercy (but only when I deserved it.)

When Kirb and I decided to move in together, he was worried that his allergies would be a big problem, and after asking me to find her a new home, I basically told him that wasn't an option; Ramona and I were a package deal. He succumbed to the kitty, and his allergies were never a problem. The next hurdle was introducing Mona to his dog, Snouts. We agonized about how we'd introduce the two of them, and stood in the corner of the living room in fear as we opened the front door to Snouts that first day together in our new home (Mona and I had slept in the new place together the night before). The worst that happen was a spitty hiss from Ramona, and a look of stuper from Snouts. After that, they tolerated each other (to the point where they shared a lair, the hot spot by the fireplace, and although NEVER encouraged, a helping of each others food!

The last few years have been tough on Ramona. Not only did she lose her buddy, Snouts, to cancer, but we moved her to a new apartment, had to have several of her teeth removed, and the vet diagnosed her with kidney disease. Within the last year, her diagnosis went up to stage 3 kidney disease. She went from a hefty 14 pound fluffy cat with tons of energy, to an emaciated 3.4 pounds (her weight as of last night).

The night before last, she was sitting in the middle of our bed staring off in to space. I mentioned to Kirby that her face didn't look right - like the girl I knew wasn't really there any more.

Kirb and I got home last night around 7:00 to find her out of sorts - unable to keep steady on her legs, her head hanging low and not at all interested in eating her precious wet food. We knew it was time, and to be honest, I think she did too. Thank God for our wonderful neighbours, Jon and Tanya, who dropped everything, called their vet (they were open late) and drove us there with Ramona in my arms in the back seat. I'm so happy we didn't have to call a cab and I could give her so many kisses and tell her just how much I really loved her all the way there...

... Falling asleep last night was impossible - both our heads were pounding and every little sound made us remember that she wasn't to blame for making them anymore... I suppose all that's left to do is clean up the house and try to remember all of the good stuff - like how she turned my Kirby in to a cat person, the smell of her terrible kitty breath, and everything she supported me through throughout my life.... Goodbye, Ramona. I'll miss you more than you'll ever know...

xo Kate