I went to my vet clinic this afternoon to pick up more cat food. My vet moved to this clinic, and the two examining rooms face the front door, separated by the lobby and the reception desk to the right.
As the tech was adding up the food cost, the door to the exam room near me opened, and I looked to see if it was a kitty in there. In the space of 5 seconds I saw my vet, saw a beautiful black cat partly snuggled in a blanket, but in the meatloaf position with his head down; his owner was coming out and when she turned she had tears streaming down her face.
I went straight to her and hugged her and said, "I'm so sorry!" She said Sam was 16; something had happened, kind of suddenly, it wasn't clear what. I told her how lucky Sam was to have her, and she him. She is going to miss him so much. She went out the door with the empty carrier, and turned and thanked me. I told her to take care, and I meant it.
By the time I turned back to pay my bill, tears were streaming down my face too. The tech handed me a box of kleenex, and her eyes were glassy.
The owner can't afford to have him cremated; I can't afford to help. However, the clinic does up a card with a paw print and the one tech writes really nice calligraphy in it.
Sam, you were so beautiful, and so loved. Play happy at the Bridge. <3
"Remember that children, marriages, and flower gardens reflect the kind of care they get." -- H. Jackson Brown, Jr.