A few weeks ago, Tigger was suddenly in pain. He was unable to walk without distress, and though he ate and drank, he seemed to be suffering and spent most of the day curled up, trying to sleep. We saw three separate vets at the animal hospital where we’ve been taking the cats for fourteen years. Except for saying the blood tests showed he had some sort of infection, they all seemed to agree Tig was suffering and we had reached a dead end.

It was devastating to see my big, strong father cry when he talked about whether it was time to euthanize Tigger, because the cat was clearly suffering without hope of recovery. My Dad made arrangements to euthanize Tigger, and took him to the animal hospital to say goodbye on a Saturday morning. Dad agonized whether or not to take Tig’s body to Buddy’s Place, where a loving couple runs a service that cremates animals and spreads their ashes in the garden there. Or should he bring Tigger home and bury him in the back yard, with some other pets who are on buried our land?

The plan was made to relieve Tig of his suffering and bury him in a shady peaceful spot on our property. As I’ve grown older and lived with a lot of pets, I’ve realized that being a pet caretaker encompasses caring for your cat from cradle to grave, just as we do for our human family. There are decisions to be made at all phases of life, and loving an animal means being there for your pet, constantly acting in their best interests, even when it’s time to let go and say goodbye.

Dad had a huge surprise when he took Tigger for that final ride to the vet. Since Tig had bit my Dad a few days before while Dad was trying to give him prednisone for the pain, the vet told us we had to wait ten days to put him to sleep, to make sure Tig didn’t have rabies. Tig is an indoor cat, so that’s impossible, but it’s a New York State law, just a precaution. If Dad wanted to put him down without waiting, the cat would have to be turned over to the authorities for rabies testing.

This was unthinkable for my father, so he brought Tigger home to wait it out for another agonizing week, until the next Saturday when Tig could be euthanized. Then something miraculous happened. After a day or two, all the injections of antibiotics and painkillers and prednisone started to take hold, and Tig started moving around more. As the eventful Saturday approached, Tig seemed better and better.

My family is overjoyed that Tig had nothing short of a miraculous recovery. Doctors couldn’t really explain it. My theory is that fate stepped in and saved Tigger because he wasn’t really ready to go.

Tig still wanders the house, and he likes to sneak around and peek in doorways and observe family members sleeping when they don’t realize they’re being watched. The sisters sleep together all day, nestled against each other in their furry cat bed just like they must have been in their mother’s womb. Sparkle likes to hang around my Dad’s basement and in between her frequent naps, she watches the bunny that has come to live in the bush outside her window.

So that’s life with four rescued cats, and I wouldn’t trade its joys for anything. The only downside is the knowledge that I must eventually say goodbye to my beloved felines, but that’s part of the journey, gracefully letting go when the time comes.

If you are interested in adopting a rescued cat, don’t forget the mature felines as well as the kittens. I believe that older cats make just as wonderful companions as kittens do. Whether you adopt a mature cat or a young kitten, one thing is for certain, there is nothing like the joy of living with and giving your heart to a rescued cat that is waiting for your love.