Yoda

This morning I had to have my 19-year-old cat, Yoda, put down. I knew this day was coming; last night it became clear the time was here.

I had owned Yoda for over 18 years. He was a pure white, short-haired cat. He became a real sweetheart once he got used to you--that usually took a few visits. Everyone loved Yoda. He was a sweet guy.

Leslie was only 19 when I got Yoda. She had just moved out and in with a friend. Yoda was very shy at first, so we kept him in Leslie's bedroom until he became more comfortable.

When Leslie was staying here with me temporarily while she looked for a job/apartment Yoda used to sleep with her at night. One night she told me she woke up in the middle of the night to see this white thing with glowing eyes. Then she realized it was Yoda and not an alien abduction. 

I got to say my good-byes to Yoda this morning. Petted him, sang to him, told him what a great friend he had been, and how much I loved him. Made arrangements for his cremation. Yeah, this was tough. Lots of tears. My vet knew about Leslie and they gave me as much time as I needed to be with Yoda and get myself together.

I talked to my sister later. She had a hard time letting herself go over Leslie. When it finally came she holed herself up for a week or so and didn't talk to anyone. When I told her about Yoda she cried. I think more for Leslie than Yoda, but I was glad she was getting it out.