upper waypoint

Losing Rita

at
Save ArticleSave Article
Failed to save article

Please try again

I wish I'd realized that Rita wouldn't be there forever. She was a small black cat with a white blob covering her chest. But things don't last forever and we never seem to cherish them like we should. But I lost her, one of my most important comforts. I wish I had known before; then I could have cherished her at every happy moment.

Rita had always been there, sitting in the sun, strolling around the backyard, purring softly in my lap. And I had thought she always would be there. I was only five or six after all. Death or loss were imaginary things that could happen to others, but not me, never me. But things don't always happen the way you want them to, do they?

It all happened that day I went to the doctor. "Why are we here, Mom?" I asked staring at the brick building while tightly clutching her hand. My mom said that we need to find something out, and the doctor can tell us. Lately my sister and I had been sniffling and coughing. My parents wanted to find out what was "going on." We went inside and waited a while before a nice-looking man called us in to get shots. After it was over we waited, and waited. When the doctor came back, he didn't look too happy. He and my mom went over to a corner and started talking, my mom nodding slowly. As we left, my mom had teary eyes.

When we got home my mom sat down and told us that we were allergic to cats. "What's allergic?" we both asked. "It means we have to give away Rita."  This was met with shocked silence  broken by tears and sobs. And we did give her away. I remember standing there watching the white van pull away, with our cat.  The cat who had been there and I had loved all my life. I watched as the van turned a corner and a lump formed in my throat and my eyes misted with tears.

"Will we ever see her again?" "I'm not sure," was the sad answer. It's been a while since this happened, but I will always remember her. Recently I found out she died, several weeks from turning 20. I'm happy she had always been there for me, and I wish I could have done the same. I've learned to be happy with anything you get, be it a big or a small thing, and always cherish and remember them.

Sponsored

With a Perspective, I'm Theo Schiff.

 

lower waypoint
next waypoint