On Tue, Sep 9, 2008 at 9:11 AM, opus and roscoe cats wrote:
As long we we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on-in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here". -Morris S. Schwartz: Tuesdays With Morrie
Just when I think that I can't cry any more, an entire new flood of tears come. I am swallowed by a grief so deep, that I feel my heart is caving in. Last night our beloved Roscoe went over the rainbow bridge. He took a sudden turn for the worse late last night. At 4am we rushed him to the closest 24 hour clinic located near Bologna. The vet worked with Roscoe for hours, doing everything in his power to save our sweet baby. Roscoe's system seemed to be shutting down. Three times he quit breathing on his own and three times he wasintubated and assisted with his breathing. Three times he came back to us. The vet pushed onward telling us that Roscoe's heart was very strong that he was putting a good fight. He was convinced that if we could just get Roscoe stabilized, that there would be hope for treatment.
The fourth time sweet Roscoe stopped breathing, I wanted to scream "STOP IT!" as the vet intubated him for the fourth time. I didn't want to be the one to give up, but I didn't want Roscoe to go through anymore. Somehow that sweet little cat saved me having to do it. Before I could utter the words his little heart gave up and death came to carry him gently over the bridge.
I am devastated. Please don't one more person tell me that "it's only a cat". For those of you who can say that, I pity you for you have never really experience the unconditional love and friendship of an animal.
We loving placed Roscoe in a beautiful wicker basket. He was wrapped in his favorite blanket and surround by photos of his family. We also placed in a few of his favorite toys, including a catnip sack his Grandma had given him and a red mouse from his friendAsta; red was Roscoe's color. We secured the basket and placed a photo of Rosoce on the top, along with his name and a poem. He sleeps now under the beautiful plum tree in yard, near a fragrant lavender bush.
I don't know if I will continue this blog. There has never been an Opus without a Rosoce; going on without Roz seems wrong. To all of you who have sent along your prayers and well wishes, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I promise to respond to each and every one of you, but for now I will take some time off to grieve and snuggle with Opus.
Roscoe will live on forever in the hearts and minds of those lives he touched....