Pop

Pop was the youngest of the my three cats, all adopted from the municipal shelter where I volunteered (caring for cats). Both of us were born on April 9th. I loved all of my cats very deeply and equally; they were "my clowder of cats" to me. I miss Pop as much as I love my remaing cats, Corrie and Phoebe. The tears are pouring out as I write this.

Pop was 5 lmonths old when I brought him home and he met Corrie. They bonded quickly, and became the best of friends, spending most of their time together. I adopted my third cat, Phoebe, a female, about 6 months later. The boys tolerated Phoebe, and sometimes chased her, but she adapted well, and that was when they became "my clowder" of cats, regarding them a much loved group, as well as cherished individutals. Pop also made friends with my my dog Ciaran, and they ofter slept near or with each other on various spots throughout my house. Ciaran was good with all the cats, but best with Pop,

When Pop became obviously ill, and when I was able to get him to a veterinarian, his condition was much worse than I realized. He had been
receiving medication for hyperthyroidism, but it turned out that he also had
developed diabetes. When the vet gave me the bad news of the prognosis, I was devastated. The biggest fear in my life was losing any of my beloved animals, and that fear had come about. I agreed to euthanasia, and was in total disbelief and such overwhelming grief. In that emotional state, I made one of the worst - if not theworst - decisions of my life, choosing not to be with him before he crossed the Rainbow Bridge. Later in the day, I realized my profound error in not being with him to comfort him as much as I could through his passing. I believe I shall feel the overwhelming regret for that failure for the rest of my life.

My beloved Pop is not longer with me and my pet family, but he is forever with me in my heart.