This is a tribute to Cleo, a cat I had in the 1980's
Cleo, a silver tabby and white kitten, already had the name Cleopatra.
When I took my kitten, to the vet, they said my kitten was a male. I still kept the name Cleo, but it was short for Cleophus, a mans' name in the Bible.
Once after taking Cleophus to the vet, I was told he had feline leukemia. There was no cure, but he would die from it. Shadow, my other cat would not catch it. I then took Cleo home.
Cleo's last days: I remember putting my hand on Cleo, who was sleeping beside me. I could tell that he was sicker then he had been. The vet said he would run tests the next day. He needed to call me for permission just before surgery. My boss didn't like workers getting phone calls, so I gave them my mother's number.
I called my vet as soon as I got home that next day. The vet took the phone and my heart dropped, when I heard the words: "your cat has been put to sleep."
Cleo was worse then thought. My mother gave the vet permission to have him pts.
A friend and I buried Cleo. I got another kitten (Felicia). But I could not get over Cleo. I finally wrote a letter telling Cleo I was saying I was sorry I wasn't with him when he died. And I still loved him. As soon as I wrote this, I felt better.
Cleophus lived between 1983 and 1989. I have two pictures of him. Neither one is digital.
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