Goodbye, Kirby

Three years ago, we went on a search that took several months to find a white kitten.  We were trying to fulfill and rectify another disaster from my childhood.  I'll spare you the graphic details, but pets (specifically cats) were used as objects to torture and torment me as a child.  If you'd like to know more of the story behind that, you'll have to look back in the archives. 

In summer of 2010, my husband returned from a trip to his parent's house with a tiny, white kitten.

He was perfect.  Pure white.  Big blue eyes.  Soft and cuddly.

Kirby became a member of our little 4-legged family quickly.  He spent his evenings cuddled with me and the daytime cuddled with his friend, Soffee. 

At 4 months old, we had his claws removed.  I know that seems cruel to many people.  However, it was obvious that his razor sharp digits were going to cause the other pets to bleed and us to replace lots of furniture and bedding. 

From then on, he only grew bigger and bigger and more a part of us.

 

Today, the house seems a little less full.  No, Kirby didn't die.  Kirby has been relocated to a new home. 

Sadly, Kirby didn't do anything to deserve the change of scenery.  Although, the family who adopted him is completely in love with him.  They have an autistic 6-year-old daughter who finds petting him very calming.  Honestly, I couldn't be happier for him and them.  He will love that kind of attention.

I'm sad for us.  I'm sad for my dogs, who've been searching for him since we walked out the door with him last night. 

Kirby's relocation was a difficult decision that I (my husband wasn't for this) had to make.  He was so loving and cuddly, that he wasn't afraid to act out if he was attention deprived.  Unfortunately, his form of acting out came in the form of urinating on things and places he should not.  It was mostly on the pet beds, clothing, our bed and miscellaneous items.

It's not an excuse, but I'm sure most people can relate in other ways.  With three dogs, a cat and a husband that's gone a lot, I just didn't have the availability to give him the attention he desired.  I know what some of you are thinking, that's no reason to give him away.   You wouldn't give away a kid if you didn't have time to pay attention to it, would you?   You wouldn't toss a kid out for urinating on your bed, would you?  Thankfully this is one time when I'll agree with the majority and say, pets are NOT children. 

Please don't think I'm being callus or cold about this, it is difficult for me.  That cat made me smile.  He was cute and added something to my life which could not have come from another source.  He made me laugh.

When I got up in the mornings, he would crawl into the covers and sleep until I made the bed.

 

He always knew when we were getting ready to travel and would crawl into our bags.

He was probably more interested in my husband's work than I am.  He would sit on his laptop, literally.  He'd intently watch the screen when my husband would run programs.

 

He would sleep in the strangest positions, but always with another one of the pets.

On the checklist, all the marks were in the pro column except one.  The urinating thing was just too big for me. 

It was two years ago this month that we replaced the majority of our furniture.  We followed that by ripping out all of the carpet in our house and going to hardwood floors.  The reason...urine.

Again, I'll spare you the nasty, graphic details.  All of our carpet and furniture had been urinated on and probably not in the ways you would expect (unless of course you've read enough of this blog to know just how jacked up my life has been).

Anyway, we've managed to keep the furniture clean and urine free.  An awesome mattress cover has kept our bed from bearing any damage.  However, yesterday, Kirby was positioning himself to urinate on the couch when I caught him.  In all fairness, I'd given him a 2nd, 3rd, 10th, 20th, chance.

Not angrily, but matter of factly, I had to make the decision to pursue a new home for him.  We don't have the funds to purchase new furniture every time the smell gets bad.  I don't have the ability to not collapse mentally and emotionally with the constant smell of urine. 

Isn't it funny how my past drove us to get Kirby and relocate him?

With the emptiness in the house, I am a little bitter.  I couldn't have made any other decision, but I had that it was ever necessary.  I'd rather have gotten up this morning to see the face of my sweet Kirby laying at my feet.