My Canela

Most people know that I love cats. There was one cat that started it all. That cat was my Canela. Canela was all of these things... sweet, loving, beautiful, and she absolutely adored me as much as I adored her. Canela was a long haired Siamese Himalayan, and my mom got her for me when I was 7 years old. When we first brought her home, she was so scared. She stayed under my bed for two days. I would lay on the floor and peek at her under the bed, and softly talk to her, and try to get her to come out. Slowly she began to trust, and soon she knew that I was going to love her. We became the best of friends. She slept with me almost every night, and she would let me hold her close to me just like a baby, and we would go to sleep. She stayed like that with me most of the night, until one of us had to move. Then in the morning she would rudely meow at me loudly until I got up to feed her. She was so smart... that if I was taking too long to get up she would literally stick her cold, wet nose in my ear, and then meow right in my ear... and trust me it hurt! There were times when she would be outside and she'd come inside all frisky, rubbing against me purring telling me she was glad to see me.

She loved to sit in the bathroom while I took a bath, and if I didn't take the time to invite her in, it wouldn't be long until I would see her brown paw come feeling around through the space between the floor and bathroom door... so I had to get up out of the bath sopping wet, and let her in so she could jump onto the counter, curl up in the sink and just keep me company. I can't count how many times she did that. She was also very fond of my dresser drawers where I would leave the top drawer open, because I knew that she loved to sleep there. Who cares if I had hairy clothes, anything for that sweet cat of mine. Canela in a sense really was my childhood bestfriend. I didn't have a sibling, but I had Canela to share my hopes and dreams with. How I loved her. She was my biggest comfort when I was sad, and she always made me happy. She was truly one of a kind.

Fast forward to when I am 18 yrs old, and to the extremely sad part. (This is your warning) Canela came in from outside, and she was limping. I scooped her up, and examined her. I found that her right paw was swollen, and looked like she had smashed it or something. We took her to the vet. Somehow she had cut her paw on something, and it was infected. The doctor gave her some medicine in tablet form, and he explained to my mom how to give it to Canela. I remember my mom opening the bottle of pills and saying "wow those are big". When we got home, my mom set the bottle down on the table next to other bottles. Later when it was time for Canela to take her medicine, my mom told me to get Canela for her. She got the bottle of pills, and gave it to Canela. Minutes later I heard my mom getting panicky. I asked her what was wrong, and she said that she gave Canela the wrong medicine. She gave her Percocet, which contains tylenol... which is NOT good for cats. The pills that were my step dad's painkillers did look identical to Canela's pills... and since my mom had opened the bottle earlier, she just didn't snap that she grabbed the wrong bottle. I was freaking out. Canela looked lethargic... and we called the vet, and he said to meet him at his office. We drove there, and I was in shock.... my beautiful,sweet Canela was sick. We had to leave her at the vet over night, and it broke my heart. All I could think was that Canela would feel that I was leaving her when she needed me most. To this day I cry when I think about it. The vet said that he was going to start Canela on an IV with medicine to try to reverse the effects of the percocet. In the morning I called to check on my precious Canela, and the news was not good. Canela died. I thought I was going to die too, my heart hurt like never before. My mom felt so incredibly bad, even to this day she can't even talk about it. I won't say that I wasn't mad at her initially, but in all honesty it was just a terrible, terrible accident. I don't hold it against her. My mom loved Canela too, she was our beloved cat, and it hurt so much to lose her... and the way she went was just awful. I remember my mom driving me over to the vet to pick Canela up. She was in a plastic bag, and I opened the bag on the way home, and took Canela out and held her. She was so warm, and if I held her just right it just look like she was sleeping. My mom and I cried so hard all the way home, I don't even know how she drove. I held her for a long time when we got home, while Dave prepared her grave in the backyard. Finally they told me it was time to bury her. We wrapped her with a blanket that she loved to sleep on, and I said goodbye to my Canela. I know to anyone reading this it sounds like a horrific story, and it is, but it happened.

I only wish I could have at least been with her when she went... but maybe that would have been harder. I sometimes wish we never would have taken her to the vet to see what was wrong with her paw... maybe it would have just healed on its own.
I will always remember Canela, she truly left paw prints on my heart. I hope she knew how much I loved her. She was my first friend.