In Loving Memory of Spaz
How do you tell a man, who lost everything in the Camp Fire, that the kitty he so determinedly stuffed into a carrier to escape the flames had died?
That is what I did this morning.
George and Spaz had been together for 16 or 18 years, since he was a tiny kitten, the runt of his litter. When George checked Spaz and his other kitty, Patches into the shelter last Saturday, he gave me a word of warning as I bent down to pick up the carrier with both cats in it. “He’s a big cat, be careful.” I’ve heard those words before and I don’t usually pay them much mind. I’m used to slinging 50 pound bags of feed. But as I went to lift the carrier I nearly fell flat on the floor!
Spaz weighed in at well over 20 pounds, maybe close to 30.
All the cats in the shelter are under veterinary care, and Spaz had just received an exam yesterday afternoon. But last evening one of the veterinary assistants noticed that Spaz was in distress. Natalie and Heidi immediately began supportive procedures and rushed him to Northpointe Veterinary Hospital where the emergency staff valiantly tried to save him. Sadly, Spaz’s heart gave out.
My soul wept as I sat down with George this morning, as he smiled at me. His gentle eyes, dissolving into tears, pulled at every part of me. I just broke this man’s heart by telling him that one of the last things he had on earth was gone.
Please say a prayer for George, who like thousands of others have lost so very much in this fire.
Today, as we continue our work of comforting cats and their people, I think of all the people who believe in our commitment. This is our life right now. Thank you for your confidence; that is the force that makes this all happen.
In loving memory of Spaz.