She hath wings

On this day, one year ago, I took Rosie to the vet for the final time, knowing that it would probably be my last goodbye, and having prepared the kids for that devastating fact. Four years earlier, she had been diagnosed with thyroid disease and in the months and years that followed, the cost of keeping her was very difficult. The vet suggested rehoming her and I was resolute. There was no way; I would find a way to keep her and give her the best life she could have.

Portia, as she was formerly known at the RSPCA, had already been rehomed at the tender age of three, and within two months of bringing her home, she had survived pancreatitis. I had unknowingly triggered symptoms through training her to use the scratch post with Friskies. She had to be on antibiotics and then go on special diets for the whole time I owned her after that.

She would live comfortably and she would always know, I would look after her. Even as I watched her lose almost 20 per cent of her body weight in just a few months, she still found ways to connect with me. Right up until the final weeks, she could still chase an inanimate object across the floor. She would bop me on the head to say “hello”. She had at least four different meows which I learnt to interpret. One was to beg to be let outside, one was hunger, another to announce her presence when I walked nearby, and another one greeted me at the front door.

Holding her one final time was so heartbreaking. I felt like a traitor. This time I wasn’t able to save her. It was likely that she had experienced a stroke and also had cancer. She couldn’t walk properly or jump anymore. She had been off her food for four days. I had waited eight years to have a pet once I lost my old cat and Rosie settled in to my home with ease. She wanted nothing more than a warm lap, a gentle tone and someone to love her. She loved to be patted and cuddled close to my heart.

To help the children in their grief, I laid out some pieces of paper next to some flowers and asked them to record their memories of Rosie in the first week after she was gone. This meant that they would not have difficulty remembering them as the years went on, and we could keep her memory alive. Later today, the kids and I will read them together.

We miss you and love you Rosie-Rose- one of the sweetest cats that ever graced this planet.