Misty’s Send-Off

For the past twenty-four hours, my eyes have been really sore, and I keep hearing voices.

Don’t worry, I’m not getting sick, and I’m not going crazy.

Wait, I got that wrong.  I AM getting sick and I AM going crazy, and it all started with this little guy:

After Misty gave birth to her most recent litter of kittens six weeks ago, I only wanted to do two things:

A.) Find good homes for the babies, and

B.) Have Misty spayed.

(For those of you who are not familiar with our ongoing stray kitteh story, catch up here, here and here.)

Thankfully, I have a friend who volunteers for a local animal shelter and she was able to reserve a spot for the kittens in the adoption program as well as get Misty fixed.  Wow! I thought, That was easy peasy.

This weekend’s kitten collecting, however, was not.

Once the kitties saw us coming, they fled, and in the end, we were only able to catch one.  As we searched for the rest, we stumbled upon a few other litters, and by the end of the hour, we had acquired quite a collection of felines!

Ugh!  As much as I just hate seeing animals locked up in cages, I was relieved that they all would be given the medical attention they needed (some of them were blind) in addition to good homes.

And then the attention turned to Misty.

“Misty deserves a good home, too, “ Dave noted.

My friend agreed.

But she DOES have a good home. I said.  She has us! 

After a lengthy amount of back-and-forth conversation (along with much pouting and brow furrowing), I eventually agreed that Misty deserved the chance at a better life.

And when I say “better life,” I mean a life without of flea bites and ear mites and cat fights.

And when I say “eventually agreed,” I mean that I still don’t agree.

To those of you who are wondering why we don’t just keep Misty in our home, I have considered the same thing many times.  In the end, however, the new addition would be a great stress to Brody and Baby Girl who do NOT get along with Misty.  Misty is also used to being free to roam outdoors, and if she were ours, I would want her to stay inside where she would be more safe.  In the end, the transition would be stressful for her, too.

Oh, God.  Just look at that sweet little face.  Sob!  

If I thought Misty would dislike being stuck indoors, then I should have known how much she would dislike being shoved in a plastic box!  After a couple attempts of trying to get Misty into the carrier, I let her go where she fled to the far corner of the deck.  A few minutes later, I joined her, and we had a little talk:

“Hey, Misty?”


“The first time I met you was on this very deck.  I fed you two hotdogs, remember?”

Ohhh yeah.

“You have been such a joy to me these past couple years, but we have to say goodbye to each other today.”

Um, you mind repeating that?

“You are going to a better place.  Just think!  You won’t have to worry about another flea bite or ear mite or cat fight or being cold in the winter or wet when it rains. I will miss you really, really badly, though.”

I see.  Now, stop talking and keep petting.

At last, it was time to get Misty into the carrier for good.  I carefully lowered her down and after only a minor struggle, she was in.  I said goodbye.  Then I said goodbye again.  And again.  And again until my friend’s car drove out of sight.

And then I cried myself to sleep.

This morning, I thought I heard a small voice at the back screen door.  I looked up fully expecting to see Misty’s hopeful face begging for breakfast.

But nothing was there.

It’s still too soon for me to remove her dishes, though.

As I pulled into the driveway this evening, I waited for Misty to jump over the fence and tell me she hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

I sat for a whole minute before realizing she wouldn’t be coming.

Even Brody and Baby Girl are a little confused.  As much as Misty drove them crazy, she was at least entertainment.

So far today, I’ve have called to check up on Misty four times, and even though I am glad to hear that she is being spoiled and is happy as a clam, my heart still aches for the furry little void in our lives.

Farewell, my sweet Misty.  We all miss you.


If you live in the Clyde area and just so happen to adopt this cat, may I please have your address?


If, in the next few days, you happen to hear a husband yelling loudly at his wife, it’s because I smuggled Misty back home.


11 thoughts on “Misty’s Send-Off

  1. You did the right thing, my dear. (Why is it that the HARD thing is so often the RIGHT thing?) Being a grownup isn’t for pansies…which is why there are so many IRRESPONSIBLE pet owners out there and so many dogs dumped at Philip’s farm. They leave the heartbreak to the rest of us.

    Philip and I are proud of you.

    P.S. If you find yourself needing to spoil somebody to keep your mind off things, substitute “Kristy” for “Misty,” and we’ll get you through this. 😉

  2. Seriously!! How am I going to drive to school while I am crying!!! Misty was happily snoozing with a full belly when I left this morning. She will be getting fixed in a little over a week. That gives us time to love on her some. She already has me trained to answer each mew with a bowl of food or a scratch – her choice.

    I started antibiotics and eye salve on the five little ones. I hope they recover fully or one will have only one eye and one will be blind. You knwo that blind one will be staying with me if she is! I’ms such a sucker for helpless little things!

  3. That is one of the sweetest, saddest things I’ve seen in awhile. But you DID do the right thing. Your heart is just so large that, when anyone is absent, it leaves a really big hollow place.

  4. I know this is kind of OT, but I feel your pain of being separated of (one of) your beloved cat(s). Just last week, we had to have our oldest cat (she was 17.5) put down for various reasons. I never had to make such a decision and it was extremely hard, but it was time to let go 😥 We still have two younger cats left (2 and 3yo), but our Tinka was with us pretty much since the day we got married. I think even the fluffy cat who just jumped on her all the time, annoying her, misses being able to mess with her. Sometimes I see something in the corner of my eyes, thinking it’s her. Sometimes I open the door and just expect her to come greet me. It is hard to let go – whether they’re going to a better place upstairs or here on earth.

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