Yoti's last photo in the yard

Today is the second and a half day without my boy Mango (Yoshi Mangashito).

I've been able to sleep the past two nights, surprisingly. I've been so exhausted by the time the night hour rolls around I basically just 'fall' asleep. My husband nudged me awake last night. He said I was breathing really deeply and I guess it scared him. Not sure what was going on there, but I can tell you this...

today...my heart hurts,
...my head hurts,
...my mind cannot focus,
...my eyes hurt,
...my throat is dry,
...my soul aches,
...my spirit is shattered,
...if I was ever complete, today not so

...but it's getting better.

I had to say something positive at the end there whether I believe it or not, right? Right!

These have been the hardest days.

Mango was my silent companion for half of my life. We grew up together, explored together, ate together, slept together, walked together, listened to music together, relocated together, married Jimmy together and just very recently I showed him how the sun breaks up into a million lights when it hits a crystal. The rainbows and flashes of light streamed all over the room and he looked (seriously - he was totally engaged) around at all of them and then back at me as if to say 'hey Mom, how come you never showed me that before'?

We smiled at each other in the rainbows of light.

Mango was always so regal. He had an M marked clearly on his head between his ears. We would actually call him "King Mango". Jim actually gets the credit for that name. Mang had a look about him. He was so conscious. He payed attention. If the doorbell would ring, he would come with me to see who it was. Most times, whoever it was knew him and greeted him accordingly. He was very social. Probably too social at times. But, that's what made him so special. He wasn't common, but he loved the commoners. : )

One of my favorite things to do with Mango? There were many through the years. But consistently, I would hold him and walk around the house showing him and talking to him about everything....he'd stay in my arms for as long as I wanted to hold him. He used to push his nose into my hair and listen most attentively to every word I said. He would stare at me for hours. Just looking. Much love.

When he was kitten, so tiny and small, I would rub his belly and kiss his little grey and white spots. Then, I would bring him up to my face for kisses and he would nuzzle under my neck. He never stopped doing that. Even after he reached 12+ pounds he still thought he was a tiny and small kitten under his Mama's neck. Pretty funny and heavy. I'm ashamed to say sometimes I would shoo him down. It's hard to walk around with a 12+ pound cat under your chin. But make no mistake, Mango was not heavy, he was my brother, son, friend, family. I would've carry him forever if I could.

What I wouldn't give to hold him one more time.

So, since I was with him since the day he was born, it was only fair to him to be with him in his last moments. We had to take him to the vet. He was so disoriented and not functioning with control. We had hope that perhaps Dr. Wilson of Cedar Grove Animal Hospital would laugh at us and tell us to take him back home.

Jimmy and I both took the news pretty badly that the time had come. Ultimately, it was my decision and I pray to the Most High God to never EVER EVER EVER have to make that decision again. I wanted Mango to fall asleep in his bed and go to God that way, not by my hand. Not by drugs. I didn't want his last memory to be one of the travel case, exam at Dr.'s office, etc.

Rosie standing by the travel case.

I was shocked to see the cross.

See the cross and rainbow?

Otherwise I would never have taken a picture.

The rainbow and cross appeared on the hardwood floor right in front of the carry case (see the single strand of cat hair?). The cross was formed by the cage. Ironic. I also dreamt of many many colors, a flood of color last night. Not sure what that means if anything.

He didn't want to get into the travel case. I had to push him slightly. That was gut wrenching and it only got worse after that. I can barely type these words. He started to cry and when we were in the office, he saw the door and we could see him thinking "I've got to get out of here".

Jim said "why don't you let him make a run for it". It would've been Mango's style to just slip out the door into the neighborhood and disappear into someones flower garden. But two seconds after that he would've been disoriented and of course I was never going to let that happen, but it's amazing how your mind navigates an escape route for your beloved as well as yourself in times like these.

That's when the room starts to spin and the hard part of reality sets in. I get the look from Dr. Wilson. They weigh him. He's lost almost half of his body weight since his visit last year. He's not the same boy he used to be. He's emaciated, a shell of what he once was. Dr. Wilson said "if the day before was his best day, and it wasn't a great day - it's definitely not going to get any better". I did not want my boy to suffer. I could not allow my boy to suffer.

The time had come.

I had to shake my head up and down indicating my decision and make eye contact with Dr. Wilson. He left the room to get the injection. Jim and I just reached down and held our boy until it was over. He put his little head down and it was done.

We are having him cremated so I will be called to pick up his remains shortly. I will keep them with me. I couldn't imagine sprinkling them anywhere I wasn't going to be forever. Who knows, maybe one day I'll find a place that's appropriate, but I doubt it.

Mango was always with me. Mango was meant to be with me. Mango is still with me. Mango will always and forever be in the quiet resting of my heart.

I love you Yoti. Thank you for every thing.

Boy, you are always mine.

Until I see your beautiful green eyes again.

Smooches, Hugs, Rubs, Treats x 1,000,000,000 and then some,

and of course all of my love and all of the love in the universe,

but you already have that.

xoxo =^..^= xoxo