
Thelma moved into my life and heart about 14-15 years ago when she was about 1 or 2 years old. As soon as she arrived, she proceeded to hide behind the washing machine and that is where she stayed until I pulled her out. She was not happy leaving her previous premises but decided to make the best of things and crowned herself queen of the house. Even when "that dog" - Doc Boy came into the family, she still refused to relinquish her throne. A simple "meow" was all she needed to get us to jump up and do her bidding - whether it was to clean her litter box, give her fresh food or water or just pay attention to her. But as much as she demanded in attention, she gave in love. Her purr when she sat on my lap could be heard across the room.
Always a healthy kitty, I was alarmed in February to see her losing weight at an alarming rate. She was constantly drinking water and visiting her litter box and I knew something was wrong. She became increasingly sick and I could tell that she was beginning to suffer. Doc also sensed something was wrong and would go up to her and whine and then look at me as if to say - "Do something!"
On Wednesday, I had to make the very difficult decision to end her suffering. She had been a very good friend for many, many years and I owed it to her to let her be at peace.
At what point does a pet cease to become "just an animal" but become part of your family and your heart? With Thelma, it was pretty much right away. Our pets are like our children. They depend on us for protection, for food, for affection. They leave a hole in our lives when they pass from us.
Rest, sweet Thelma. Thank you for the years you gave me. If our pets go to heaven as I feel they do - then I will see you there!

