Your Pet Tributes

by Laura Kellogg
(Long Island)

I adopted Buttermilk from a shelter when I was nine years old. He was only three months, at most. He became my everything: my child, my brother, my "boyfriend", my stuffed teddy bear, and my best friend. I chose the name because his coat was the color of pancakes. He was a beautiful cream tabby. He was quite handsome and regal. I took a trillion photos of him over the years, which I am now thankful for.

Buttermilk and I really connected because our rare personalities matched up. Many people do not realize that cats, along with all other animals, have personalities. They all have strong characteristics that makes them so different from each other. Buttermilk was a VERY shy cat, extremely timid, but he had a thirst for danger and he was extremely affectionate at times (usually only around me, at night time, cuddling in my bed). I was a very shy girl myself, but deep down I was fierce, sassy, and a little crazy (in a good way!) I understood Buttermilk in ways that others couldn't, and he understood me in ways that no one else could. I told him all my secrets and he liked to hear my voice. His coat was so soft and beautiful. He always let me rub his belly, something that most cats will never let you do. I always took advantage of this!

The tragic news happened on February 9th, 2013, through a phone call from my dad. I was 18 years old by then and away at college. Over my winter break, Buttermilk seemed EXTRA skittish. My dad and I thought about taking him to the vet, but he had become so skittish that he was impossible to catch him. I went back to college and tried not to think too much of it. Maybe he was just mad at me for being away at college and leaving him. But a month later, he walked into the bathroom and laid down on the floor. My parents said he looked very weak and hurt, so they brought him to the vet. Something was wrong with his urinary tract. The vet operated on him but he died in the middle of it. They really thought he was going to make it.

Buttermilk only lived to be nine years old. The last cat we had, who was my Dad's, lived to be 21 years old. I planned on Buttermilk living for so much longer. It was the worst pain and heartbreak I've ever really experienced. It was too sudden and too soon. Almost six months later, and I'm still waiting for him to come home. I love you so much Buttermilk.