Our family had a very affectionate cat for 20 years. Barbi was thrown into our garden with her 2 sisters a day old. Me and my ex kept feeding them every 2 hours, and Barbi had a lot of spunk. She hissed, fought through her very first days, and then suddenly she relaxed, and loved us with all her might.
She lost her sisters, and gained two dog brothers. She saw our pack grow, saw us getting a divorce, moved with me from a house to an apartment, and stayed with my mum and brother when I moved abroad.
I was away for 8 years. She was loved by family, yet she recognised me when I moved back home. We had a little more than a year together. She was gone in a week as old age caught up with her. Her life came to a circle as I was feeding her again – a bite here, a sip there. She couldn’t bear more.
I held her as she took her last breath. She was calm, pain free – and grateful for us letting her go. I was left without her affection and playfulness but all the memories of those beautiful, beautiful 20 years.
All my pets were rescues: but it was them rescuing me, not the other way around. I wish every one of them would get a chance to save a human.
This is Day 2 in the #100daysOfThoseDays. Today is International Rescue Cat Day. The series was started by Christine and Gloria and uses the “National/Global Something” of a particular day as the basis of the post. You can choose your own, and posting doesn’t have to consecutive.
Life with Mia 
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