The Day I Lost My Friend

This is a true story that makes my heart feel as heavy as a sack of stones to this day, but I will start off recollecting my happier memories before this gets too emotional. I was five years old when I went to the animal shelter for my first pet as an early birthday gift. I remember seeing the fluffy tuxedo color kitten with the bright yellow eyes and really wanting to hold her since she looked like our other cat. I remember taking her home with the book on how to take care of cats and naming her Baylee. I remember being young and thinking getting scratched for the first time was a great thing. I remember my relatives having to correct me on how to hold her. I remember asking my mom to wake me up using her, and I remember how our other cat Ashley hated her. I remember mom bringing another cat home and Baylee hating her, thus making the cycle of the previous cat hating the new one. I have all those memories, but those are what they are...memories. I haven’t been as happy since I lost her, and this is the story of that night.

It was May 6th 2009, a Wednesday night and I had already turned nine years old the November prior and was in 3rd grade. I had been doing the CSTs since the start of the month and was tired, with only one day left of the testing. It was about 5:30 and I had been watching “River Monsters” on the tv in my parent’s room. I remember being done with homework and eating dinner and wondering where Baylee was.

I suddenly heard mom and dad shouting for my name so I paused the tv and ran out to the living room, to hear a painful “MEROOOOWWW!” and dad trying to get Baylee inside the house, afterall she was an indoor and outdoor cat, she could come and go as she pleased and usually stayed outside all night when it was bed time. I asked dad what was wrong and he replied saying she was hurt. I was too young at that time to fully comprehend what was happening and the thought of Baylee getting hurt. That cat had always been rather mean having nearly scratched my eye and always hiding around the house but she was my cat and the only living being I really told my problems to.

I saw a black blur and could only hear her painful yowls as dad shut the door and I saw her limping around the living room. I faintly remember looking outside and seeing the old tuxedo siamese Ashley and the short hair mix Gemma, as I thought that they knew she was hurt and were worried, but we couldn’t open the door to let them in out of fear Baylee would run out in her pain and fear. I remember being told to sit on the chair as mom and dad discussed what to do.

I remember asking mom what happened and mom said, “I think she might’ve gotten hit by a car, there's blood on her left shoulder.” I went over to Baylee to try and calm her down but mom and dad stopped me, saying, “You’ll scare her and she’s hurt.” so I had gone back to the chair to keep watching my friend suffering in pain as she wouldn’t put pressure on her left front leg at all.

My mom and dad kept talking about taking her to the emergency vet but by then it was 6:00pm, so it was late and one of them kept arguing about it before they finally decided to try and grab her to put her in the cat carrier. I can still hear her yowls of pain in the back of my mind even now, almost 9 years later. I asked if I could come because, she was My cat and I was worried and didn’t want to say goodbye, but my mom responded, “You’re too young, you’ll be bored in the emergency room. Sorry Heather but you can’t go. Dad will make sure she’s okay and will be better in no time.” I should’ve persisted more, I should’ve gone with her, I never got the chance to properly say goodbye.

I remember saying goodbye to dad then as he drove off to the nearest vet clinic emergency room. The wait was agonizing even as a kid, my best friend, the being I asked for help all the time, was hurt and I couldn’t do anything! I was helpless then. It was probably a half hour to an hour before we got a call from dad, and he dropped the news on us.

Baylee had been shot by a gun. She hadn’t gotten hit by a car, our cats are too smart to get hit that easily in our neighborhood. Someone had seen this fluffy cat and decided to shoot her with a gun. Whether it was an accident from play or on purpose I don’t care anymore, I just honestly wish that person would get what they deserve.

Dad told us how her entire left shoulder blade was shattered and the nerves had gotten caught. My young mind couldn’t fathom that kind of thing yet, not really. I just remember thinking she doesn’t have a shoulder and is suffering.

We were then given the ultimatum. Amputate or Euthanize. Correction, I was given the ultimatum. A nine year old child who’s best friend was suffering like that, had to make the choice. I remember thinking to myself about all the good things and bad things, if we were to amputate that would cost money that mom and dad always worried about, she also wouldn’t be able to the climb the fence in front of our house that Gemma always chased Baylee up. I remember, being a kid, thinking that hugging Baylee without her arm would feel weird but with euthanization, she won’t suffer anymore, but I’ll never get to see her again. Even if they were lying about making me choose, and they had already decided to euthanize, they still asked me, and I had to choose euthanization.

That night when I saw Ashley and Gemma, they almost looked sad, like they knew, and I cried myself to sleep. Dad later told us how they had him hold her down while they euthanized her, and even today he still has the scratch marks she gave him, she knew and she didn’t want to die yet, and I let her die.

The next day at school was the last day of CSTs, and I couldn’t handle it. They had to take me to another room to calm down and then take the test myself. It took a while but I managed to not cry too much during the test. At lunch though was another story. Bullies telling me, “I’m glad your cat died” and “Lol I shot your cat.” Things like that made me spiral back into a fit of tears as I had to run and hide.

Over the years at elementary school, during lunch I’d go out into the field where an abandoned soccer goal was, and sit there all recess and lunch missing Baylee. I still miss her even now, and the bullies never helped the situation til they all left for the middle school when I was in fifth grade. My grandfather eventually made a wooden plague in our backyard for her, 9/06 - 5/09, September 2006 to May 2009.

When I say I never truly got over it, I mean that I am not as happy as I was before she died, I still cry when I think about her. Soon after elementary school, our eldest cat Ashley passed away in her sleep and our cat Gemma who would chase Baylee, went missing and never came back. I do miss them but it doesn’t hurt on the level of Baylee. I may not be lonely with our two new cats Raider and Tigger but I feel like a part of me died. I may not be crying everyday, but I blame myself for not choosing to amputate her leg. This taught me about death but I feel empty without her. I’m going to be mourning that fluffy cat til I die too. That is the story of how I lost my friend, and honestly can’t wait to see her again.