Creamy...

This is Creamy.  Well, her name started out as Eva when we rescued her five years ago.  Then we quickly changed it to Silks because she was so dang silky.  And then because she was more dreamy than silky, we again changed her name to Creamy.  And it stuck.

Creamy was my hands-down, all-time favorite cat.  And I've had a lot.  (But don't tell the other two I live with, by the way.)  But she literally could do no wrong.  She never scratched on our furniture.  She always used the litter box.  Her only downside was that she was way too needy.  She couldn't get enough of us.  In fact, for the last five years she has slept on my carotid artery each and every night.  Tonight will be the first night that I'll have a cold carotid artery.

This sweet little thing is in Heaven as of this morning.

We were told two months ago that because of her disease, she wouldn't be with us very much longer.  We all took that news really hard.  The family in which I live is a major cat family.  These things with long tails become family as soon as they they're brought home and put on our beds.  Yes, we all love sleeping with our cats.

Though this morning was one of the hardest things I've ever experienced (thankfully Ed was with me), my tears dry up a tad when I think back to one of the funniest stories about Creamy.  In fact, my daughter and I brought her to the vet last week before school, thinking that that was going to be her last day.  As we were driving and crying, I started telling Rachel this story and we were actually cracking up by the time we had arrived at the vet.

So about five years ago, I held a church retreat planning meeting at our house.  At the end of the night, all of the girls (about 10 of them) gathered in my family room to pray before they left.  I had already put all three of our cats into the laundry room, but someone said it was fine to let them out.  So I did.   As we bowed our heads and began to pray, I heard a bell from around one of the cat's neck as it entered the room.  I popped one eye open to see who it was.  It was Creamy.   She had then walked over toward me as I was sitting in the middle of the couch (surrounded by two other girls) and I had again opened one eye to see where she was.  She was sitting on the girl's lap to the left of me getting petted.  I smiled and closed my eyes and continued listening as someone was praying. Just then, I heard it.  You know that sound right before an animal throws up.  Well, Creamy started making that sound, and before I knew it, she had thrown up all over the girl's WHITE jeans and my couch.  I about died!   So I grabbed the cat, ran back into the laundry room, closed the door and didn't want to come out.  I was laughing hysterically.  Out of sheer embarassment.  As I mustered up the courage to go back in there, those prayer warriors (including the girl who had just gotten thrown up on) continued praying as if nothing had happened.  I stood behind the couch (pretending to pray) and just bit the inside of my cheeks so I woudn't laugh again.  The smell was horrific and I was concerned that the vomit would stain my couch if it wasn't cleaned up immediately.  But they kept praying!  Isn't it terrible where my mind goes?!  Well, the end of the story is that the following week, the girl told me that after she had arrived home, she took off her jeans in the garage to put them in the washing machine.  When she entered the house with just her underwear on, her husband was like, "Hey, if this is how you look after those retreat meetings, keep going to them!"  

I keep thinking I'll look over from my desk and see her scratching on her favorite scratching post or that she'll jump up and sit beside me while I type.  Aint gonna happen.  But I take comfort knowing that this sweet little thing is no longer in pain.  And that she's getting petted from the sweetest Hand there is.

Good-bye my Sweet Cream.

P.S.  I hesitated writing this blog as I hate to make you guys cry.  But you know me, when I'm inspired, I've got to write.