Dear Majestée,
it's hard to believe the time has come where you had to leave me. There is so much I want to say, I don't know where to begin.
16 years ago, on a shopping trip to Plattsburgh (you see, we are from Quebec and you were born in the US, but that's hardly important) with my father we randomly stopped by a pet shop. Today, I do not agree with buying pets from pet shops, but when I was 10, I did not know any better. It's a good thing, because I would not have met you otherwise. There was a big cage with your mom and your brothers and sisters, but you were the cutest one. My father offered to buy me a kitten, and of course I chose you. Today for various reasons, I am no longer in good terms with my father, but I have to be grateful to him for meeting you.

As we passed customs going back to Canada, the lady asked if we had anything to declare, and we said we bought a kitten. That was a few days before my 11th birthday. You became my best friend. We were always together. You were lovely. You were funny. You always loved to eat Doritos! You were always good to me, despite me not always treating you nicely. I am sorry I played pranks on you. I thank you for your forgiveness.

I grew up with you. You have taught me many things. You taught me responsibility. You taught me to be kind to creatures. You taught me what unconditioned love is. Most of all, you taught me to cherish every moment, to be strong and to avoid having regrets in life.

I'm sorry you had to suffer. I'm sorry your final moments were no peaceful. I'm sorry for all those times where I came home late while you were hungry. I'm sorry I wouldn't allow you to sleep with me because your snoring was too loud.

The day before your death I gave you a bath. You looked so pitiful. I also had to force you to eat with a syringe. I force fed you more the morning of the day you died. You hated it. I'm sorry. Can you ever forgive me? When I came home and saw that once again you were unable to keep your food inside, I started to panic. You were not getting better. It was time, and I was scared. You looked scared and confused at the vet's and it was killing me because I knew what was coming. I chose to be there as the vet put you to sleep. But I turned my back to you as I could simply not watch. I am so sorry. As I saw the vet leaving with your sleeping body, you looked so peaceful but I was so sad. I never cried so much. I cried so much I ran out of tears to shed.

I love you. I always did and always will. I hope you loved me too despite everything. I will never forget you. Haruka is still there and he misses you too. My pain may calm itself, but the hole in my heart will always be there. I find comfort in knowing that you are no longer suffering. I hope that you are somewhere running through fields, your body and muscles rejuvenated like in your early years and are having fun somewhere with other kitties while waiting for me. Please wait for me.

I love you so much. You are my friend.



May you rest in sunlight forever.

Hi,

What a touching letter to your precious Majestée. And what a cute and cuddly kitty! You apologize a lot to him (or her? I don't think you mention the sex) in your letter - it's normal after our loved ones pass to look back with regret and think 'if only I'd done that/hadn't done that' but rest assured that Majestee would never hold anything against you. That's the beauty of animals - they live in the moment, and never hold grudges. And they love you unconditionally, as you loved Majestee. I'm so sorry you no longer have him in your life. Keep Majestees memory alive, and he will always be with you. I hope things get easier for you soon.

Sending you hugs - Cheryl x

Thank you.
Oups, I did not mention the gender. She was female. Majestée is a French name. As you can probably guess, it means "majesty" .
I do hope I can get rid of my regrets. It is the hardest part I think.

I'm so sorry about your special one. I had the same experience 3 days ago now...I'm still hurting badly, very badly. My little Bichon 'Zola' (my pic here) was 13 and diabetic (diagnosed when he was nearly 12). I'd been giving him his twice-daily insulin injections for all that period with love. It was my pleasure to do everything for him as he became increasingly dependant. I loved preparing his food and taking him outside and tucking him in at night. I loved the way he'd walk up and gently scrape his little paw on my arm in bed or lying on the couch when he wanted to get down. His sweet little face with big eyes was adorable. Like yours, he taught me many many things...loyalty, fun, strength, unconditional love, acceptance, and much much more...I ache when I think now how you went. I too was presnt at the vet's when they put you to sleep. My retired parents were there but cound't face it. I wanted to. I wanted you to be with someone you loved in your final moments. The vet, who was so sweet to us, gently put his little body on the floor ontop of a mat and started to inject the fluids to put you to rest - you'd been so so tired, struggled to breathe as your body failed. You let out a few final yelps and fought to the end before you finally went limp in my hands. I was devastated and still feel so guilty about ending your precious life. I had to make the decision. Either that, or spend thousands on respirators and other things, and with no guarantees. I so wanted to buy him some more time with us but I just couldn't (couldn't afford it and couldn't face your suffering). We took the vet's suggestion and put little Zola to rest. I cried uncontrollably. In 10 seconds you were gone and I cound't bare it, but I wanted you to be held by me with your last breath. I'll love you forever more baby Zola. Please look down on me and smile and wait for me! I miss you terribly every second. My chest is aching...
Rest
x

I'm very sorry. I feel your pain.

We share a responsibility as pet lovers (I refuse to think of myself as an "owner"!) to make the hard choices for our loved ones. I have gone through every possible emotion after having to decide to let my little one go. Bitsy had so many health issues over her last few years, and by the end her little body was just worn out. As long as she wasn't in constant pain, I felt that it was right to continue to try to let the vet and I try to treat her. However, when it got to the point that we knew that she wasn't going to improve, and that she would be in constant pain, then keeping her going would have just been selfishness on my part. To have continued to let her hurt would have been cruel, whereas letting her go peacefully was a final act of love. Our pets rely upon us to make the hard decisions when the times come. I will always feel some guilt, but we all can "what if" until the cows come home, but the choice was still right. I am sure that Majestee is looking down on you, and purring a heartfelt thank you that she is no longer suffering. She was certainly an adorable cat, even though I am not a "cat Person".

Andy