“SAMANTHA” by Gary DeVaney
Samantha was born and was given to me by a friend. She is a kitty who has been totally devoted to me for over 20 years. She has slept with me every night that I was home. Tomorrow, I have to take her life.
She is my love, my sugar-pie, my angel-love, my Kewpie-doll, the totally devoted and loving daughter I never had. She loves her daddy today as much as she ever did. She sleeps at the end of the bed, and I’ll ask: Ain’t gonna give no daddy no love-love? You can come. She comes up and lays her 12 pounds on my chest and gives me lots of kitty-kisses. Then, she softly snuggles down beside me. I pet her. Samantha is a happy kitty. When she closes her eyes and purrs herself to sleep, she appears to smile with contentment. After some time, she would go back down to the end of the bed. She was careful never to disturb me while I was sleeping.
I always promised and assured my beautiful, loyal and loving Samantha Kitty, throughout the years, that should her time come before mine, I would never let her suffer. She is suddenly 20 years old. I’ve had her for over 20 years of my life and tomorrow I must live up to my promise and take her life.
Damn – this hurts!
She has been slowly losing the function of her rear legs for these last few months and she meows to come on to the bed. She, every night in bed while watching TV, snuggles and gives her daddy loving Kitty kisses. She now crashes off the bed onto the floor, rests a while and then slowly staggers, falling down every 3-4 steps to her food and water bowls in the next room and to her litter box.
The reality has closed in on me. This is pure trauma. It is now, the time has come, not to allow her to suffer anymore and to have the vet put her to sleep. Tomorrow, I will take her life.
I went to a bar last night and thought about writing this as I decided to share my tears in writing. This will be Samantha’s eulogy. As I walked to the bar, about a mile away, I validated myself by covering my oath, my promise to Samantha that I would never let her suffer. All kinds of righteous validations came to mind, like, if it were not for me, she would suffer a long, miserable and painful death. I had promised her that wouldn’t happen many times over the years. Each time she purred her “thank you”. This is making me cry! I’ve cried, but this, right now, makes it so real.
Recently, I had said to Samantha in a tender moment: “Samantha, you’ve been my kitty and I have loved you for 20 years.” She purred, looked at me lovingly and said: “But father, I’ve loved you all my life.”
I perceive that one’s love of someone can be measured – by a sense of loss.
Samantha slept with me again last night and today I drove her to the vet to terminate her life. This hurt is unbearable.
I’ll tell you something that happened. In the Vet’s office, I held Samantha and looked down into her loving, trustful eyes. I kissed her and told her I loved her. I held her in my arms and the tech gave her, her fatal shot. Then, Samantha broke my heart. She looked up at me lovingly, snuggled softly into my arms, gave me her last kitty kiss, closed her eyes and she began to purr. She purred – until she didn’t…
