I really just need to vent somewhere.
My cat, Abby, has always been a tough li'l kitty. She was a feral cat, born to a stray that would often hang around my dad's old work place in California. When she was 7 or 8 weeks old, she fell into a wooden tube and couldn't climb back out. She was stuck there for the whole weekend.
My dad came to work the following Monday and heard a tiny meowing sound. He followed the noise to find a tiny little kitten, barely alive. He scooped her out, put her in his truck, and brought her home.
I was really excited, because I loved cats and I always wanted to get one. My mom was wary, though; the kitten was very weak. She thought it wouldn't survive the night.
So we fed the kitten, gave her water, did everything we could to save her. And the next morning, lo and behold, she was noticeably better. She was up, exploring her new home, and even played a little. She had instantly captured my heart. I named her Abigail, or Abby for short.
Almost eleven years later, she was still going strong. We had a merry Christmas with her, giving her some new toys to play with and a nice warm fire to sit in front of. Everything was great. Or so I thought...
Abby had been sick the week I got back from finals, which was Christmas week. But before Christmas, my mom took her to the vet. They thought her stomach was just swollen or something, making her throw up, so they gave her some medicine. The medicine seemed to be helping, so we were optimistic.
But after Christmas, she was still throwing up, though not nearly as frequently. I was hoping it was just a stomach bug and that it would pass. We took her back to the vet this morning to get an ultrasound and returned home, not thinking anything of it. They thought maybe it was some kind of obstruction.
The vet called us back a few hours later and told us that Abby had cancer. She had a large tumor in her stomach and several smaller ones in other areas. The tumors were inoperable and there were really no treatment options... they recommended that she be put down.
We went down there again and said our goodbyes. That was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. This poor cat has been through so much, and now... even at the end, she was still acting like everything was fine. I don't know if she was suffering--I really hope she wasn't--but she sure didn't act like she was. She was a brave little thing, and she had been one of my best friends for many years... she was there for me when I was sad, she sat in my lap and purred when I was happy, and she was always so happy to see me when I got home from school.
I'm going to miss her so much. Rest in peace, Abby... you'll always be in my heart.