My Precious Little Girl

My daughter died. This statement met with several blank stares so I stopped saying it. But that didn’t make it any less real. I never had a human child but I did have a precious daughter with four legs and fur. I had a cat and her name was Baldrick. She was my daughter for six and a half years. I cherish every moment I got to share with her.

She came into my life at just a couple of weeks old, yelling her head off and needing a lot of care. So, I found a doctor she and I could both be comfortable with and trust. I learned all about feeding and bathing as well as proper bedding and safe toys. I woke up during the night to prepare her bottle and make sure she ate enough and kept it down. I celebrated moving from bottle to soft foods to solid foods. The vets had listed her outlook as guarded which means they weren’t sure she would make it. But she was a determined little kitten and I was just as determined that she would live.

She needed very little encouragement or direction to use the litter box correctly which was a relief. I had heard stories of cats that needed to be taught this and I wasn’t sure how to potty train a cat. The first time she jumped off the bed, my heart was in my throat until she turned and looked at me all proud of what she had done. I was afraid she had shattered every bone in her tiny little body. Later she took her favorite toy and went to take a nap in her bed.

I took her for her checkups, got her all her shots and kept an eye on her growth and weight. My little girl was growing up before my eyes. I was a proud cat mom. I took so many pictures and videos that she sometimes would hide when she saw me pull my phone out.

I taught her right from wrong and had to give her a time out when she misbehaved but luckily those were rare. I had no privacy, especially when using the bathroom. She always demanded my attention. On those rare mornings I wanted to sleep in, I would wake up with a face staring into mine or be patted until I woke up. At least she came to understand me when I asked for just a few more minutes of sleep. Five minutes later she would be patting me again.

When I got a divorce, she was a discussion as far as custody and care. I got full custody. She had her likes and dislikes as far as music and television viewing. She was scared of the dark. She greeted me when I came home from work and listened as I told her about my day.

When she didn’t feel well I worried. When I got the worst news any parent could get, inoperable cancer and only a few months to live, I cried in another room so she couldn’t see.

My whole focus became her and her happiness. We watched the shows she enjoyed and cuddled together. I introduced her to Disney animation and she really watched the movies with interest. We listened to the music she liked. I got her some of favorite treats. And when the time came, I was with her.

My daughter died. We did not share a language beyond that of love but I was her Mama and she will forever be my precious little girl. Not every child is human but love isn’t defined by blood. Grief is real no matter the loss.

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