My parents went out of town and left me to care for my sick kitty cat, Spunky. They knew she was getting worse, but they couldn't have known how bad it would become. A few days ago, I put her outside and she disappeared. I couldn't find her. I had to leave for work. I didn't want to, but I had no choice. When I came back that afternoon, she was stumbling a bit and meowing wildly. Her eyes looked like Puss in Boots from Shrek 2. Cute, right?
Yes, cute for a few minutes. But her eyes stayed like that all night, looking around confused and bewildered. I kept trying to feed her, but she wouldn't eat. She just kept meowing and walking around in circles. Later that night, when she kept bumping into chairs and tables, I realized my kitty had gone blind. She couldn't find her litter box, couldn't eat, couldn't move – she just kept twisting around, changing positions. She didn't close her eyes the entire night.
The next morning, my brother came to check on her. I had planned to spend the whole day by her side. Instead, he told me it was time to let her go. We put her in her cat carrier one last time and drove her to the vet.
I held her one last time. She scratched me a bit because she was so scared. She walked into a wall in the examination room. My brother and I watched her as she set her head down on the table and the doctor gave her an injection. Her chest stopped moving up and down, laboring to breathe. Her heart stopped beating. I don't have a cat anymore.
My mom said she wants to get two new kittens, but I'm not ready. Spunky watched me grow up. I don't want to grow up anymore.
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