I wasn't completely truthful when I said I was sick. I am, just sick of heart. Telling you I was sick was a lot easier than having to give explanations that I wasn't ready to give. So I apologize for the little subterfuge, but I really couldn't handle it at the moment. I had to take my MacKenzie in to the vets yesterday morning and have her put to sleep. While I was spending so much time on Devlin, I didn't notice that something else was going on. MacKenzie was still pretty feral - probably 60% feral. So she spent her life here in this house living in my bedroom. She would come up to me if I was sitting on the bed and let me pet her, but only then. She lived in there with Neely Shae - they roamed the house at night. This was mainly because of Siobhan and Cassidy who were bullies. I thought things would be better with both of them gone (yes, this is the third cat I've lost since November - although Cassidy just went to another home), but they weren't. With Bebo's move into the house MacKenzie switched to living in my mother's room. For a month or so everything was fine. I'd open the door and she would be laying on the bed or sitting on the windowsill - in other words, she was out in the room. About the time that Devlin became ill I also noticed that MacKenzie was hiding more. She was staying under my mother's dresser. She would come out when I called her - sometimes. Whenever Bubba (Seamas) and Neely Shae were in the room she was fine then too (she had been with Bubba since he was a kitten). But after a while she no longer came out to be with them. She was hiding from them. We all have heard stories of animals who start hiding when they are ill. That was MacKenzie. It doesn't matter from what - the vet and I talked about it for weeks. MacKenzie was not happy, she could not be treated and there was no other option.
By the time I snatched Mackenzie from the yard in November of 2000, we (my brother Howard and I) had already managed to get her to come to us, rub against our legs (if we stood very still), but I had no intention of keeping her. My plan then was to take her on up to the pound and have her humanely put down. I knew that that was better than living on the streets. But I couldn't do it and ended up keeping her. So in a way I gave her almost 5 1/2 years of love (as much as she would allow), food, companionship, etc. that she had never known before.
After she was gone I elected to hold her for a few moments. You see, I could never hold her before - she wouldn't let me. I like to think that she's free now - free from being scared of other cats, free to run and jump and lay in whatever sun is available wherever she is. I firmly believe in the rainbow bridge - I know that when I'm gone, the animals that I've loved will run across a bridge and greet me. Maybe she'll let me hold her again then.