My baby died yesterday. I say that she died, because that's what happened. She didn't pass away, she wasn't euthanized, she died. She died a calm, quiet one with me at her side at home. I knew this day would come. I knew this day would be sooner, rather than later. I feared that there would be more suffering, a prolonging that wasn't needed, or maybe the ultimate decision of putting her down. I thought for sure that's how it was going to go. Instead, she was taken earlier but at home, on my bed, being pet behind her ears, her favorite place. Not on a cold table in an unfamiliar place with people she didn't know. I'm so glad that this is how it went, but I'm so sad that it has already passed.
I couldn't find her all afternoon after I got home from school, I finally found her under my bed when she started crying around 3:30. She never cries. I tried cleaning her mouth, thinking she was in pain over that, but her mouth looked ok. She kept howling, and she wouldn't get up. She wouldn't eat, she wouldn't drink water, and her body felt lifeless. I knew it was her time. I called my mom, thinking that she would know what to do, and she just told me to take her to the vet. I called around to a few, but they were all closing or couldn't see us before they closed, so I got a hold of a 24-hour emergency clinic. It was around 5 when I got off the phone with them, and I called Kaz to tell him that I was taking her to the vet because I thought she was dying. He asked me to wait until he could get there so he could come with us in case something happened, so I did. Chelsea came home and heard her crying and told me to get in the car and she'd drive us to the vet, not to worry about money because she had her savings. (FYI - Chelsea is the best ever and I love her.) I needed to find her paperwork because I knew I was taking her to a new place and they would want records of her shots and information before we left. Before I could find it, her body started to stiffen out. I picked her up and laid her next to me, seeing that she had urinated on my bed. I pet her as she began to seize for a few seconds until she stopped breathing. The moment I realized that she had stopped breathing is when I heard the front door open and Kaz walk in, and I fell to the ground trying to hear anything, any murmur, or see any movement. Nothing. My baby had died.
She's always been sick with an auto-immune deficiency, and with the medicines and surgeries or not, her life wouldn't have lasted long anyways. I figured that as long as I tried to love her as much as I could, that I wouldn't feel bad when this day came. And it's true, I don't. She was loved until the end, by everybody. Chelsea is one of the only people I know that would've put up with her slime and her bad behavior when she would leave us presents because of whatever problem she developed before I adopted her. Even Chicken and Tater would go and clean her ears and face when she couldn't. Everybody who came over to visit loved letting her sit on their lap, and they would pet her and let her drool on them because that's who she was. She was Bacon Cheeseburger.
I feel so torn up inside. I stayed in bed until 2:15 today. I tried going back to sleep so I wouldn't be sad, but I was too awake. I cried myself asleep last night, because being in bed and realizing that she's not around to cuddle with every night anymore was too hard. Coming home and having her not be at the door to greet me made me break down in tears. And I have a feeling that it's going to take me a long time. I feel so depressed, and want to let myself be sad over this, because there is no possible way I can get through this without bawling my eyes out whenever I feel like it. I feel like I needed that cat just as much as she needed me. We braved through some tough times in life together, and she was always there to love me when I needed it. I want my baby back.
I don't know what it is about this time of the year, but it's just the absolute worst to me. Two years ago, I was heartbroken. A year ago, my car was stolen, I was laid off, I had to go to court, and I found out the house we were renting was foreclosed. And now there's this. Hey world, if you could get off my shoulders for a little bit, that'd be great. Oh, the things I've learned. About the world and about myself. Not everything bad stays bad, you know? I'm sure that little B. Cheezy is partying it up, where ever she is. Maybe she'll be reborn into something, or somebody. Something beautiful, somebody wonderful.

I took this picture last week, when she and I were napping together. It was one of the best naps I've ever had, and she stayed in my arms the whole time.
I love you, baby Cheeseburger.