I have always been completely vulnerable and honest with you guys about everything. And though I’m sobbing typing this…I wanted you to know what’s happened.
Our kitten Kai is gone. We had to put him to sleep yesterday.
He was FINE the day before yesterday, the picture of health and rambunctious happiness that he always was. Running around like the crazy, perfect maniac we loved with our whole hearts. He played fetch with his favorite toy mice, he bumped his forehead against mine, purred like a tiger while I held him, fell asleep on top of Natalie’s head when we went to bed, his little body pressed tightly to hers. He was a little less lively than usual, but it was hot…we thought he was just warm.
Yesterday morning, Natalie woke me up frantic. “We have to go to the vet,” she told me in tears. “Something’s really wrong.”
Kai wouldn’t move. We gathered him into the carrier and took him to the vet who did a bunch of bloodwork and told us the most impossible news.
Though Kai had been negative for feline leukemia in the test before…the test was a false positive. He not only had leukemia, his bone marrow was riddled with cancer. He was going to die that day if we didn’t euthanize him. The vet told us that it happens suddenly…that in kittens, they’re fine one day, then dead the next because of how quickly the cancer spreads, and how the body suddenly can no longer balance the cancer.
He was nine months and twenty-three days old. We euthanized him exactly seven months, to the DAY, after we euthanized Kit, the previous love of our lives.
Kai was our whole world. And now he’s gone.
He was just a baby. He was our baby.
I’m in shock. I’m numb. I keep sobbing and I’m not sure how to stop.
I don’t know how we’re going to get through this.
When he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little stars,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night,
And pay no worship to the garish sun.
~ William Shakespeare