All cats go to heaven

In June of 2013 we welcomed a new baby into our home. Sure we thought he was a she and his original name was Ruby, but none the less we loved him. He was so tiny and young when we got him that his ears were too big for his head and that was why we had issues knowing she was actually a he. The kitten was part manx so he had almost no tail. This was by fat the oddest looking kitten I'd ever saw. I knew then and there he was going to fit in with our family just fine.

In the end when we discovered she was actually a he his name went from Ruby to Figaro. I always called him my handsome boy though, the rest of the world came to know his as Figgy, the odd little tailless cat. I can't tell you how many times we were asked what happened to our cats tail. Our son used to think it great fun to tell people he'd eaten the cats tail.
                                                                                                                                                          Figgy was a terrible kitten. He thought nothing was greater than terrorizing my older female cats. He

used to get into my back hall as well and attack anyone who tried to bring him back I'm not sure they ever gained any love for him at all. He was that kitten that could and would climb anything. The curtains, furniture, and even our legs. He was so funny when he'd get up on our screen door and just hang there. We'd hearing him meowing and have to go pull him off after he'd get stuck, He ripped holes in ever screen of our house to try and get out. It was the thing that eventually led us to allow him to be an indoor outdoor cat. Yep, he was a terrible cat and I loved him with all my being.

As he grew older we came to learn that all that disdestructionemmed from the fact Figgy was in fact a killer. This discovery was made at 3AM one morning when we heard a ruckus outside. My husband went out to the yard to find Figgy had a bunny pinned to the grund. Dave swears to this day the cat looked at him and in his eyes said it's you or the bunny someones going to die here tonight I suggest you walk away. Me I attempted to save the rabbit which must have looked funny with me in my jammies chasing the cat who was chasing the rabbit and Dave looking on laughing at all of us. We soon learned rabbit was his favorite thing to kill followed closely by moles.

As Figgy grew he became a sweet, loving cat. There wasn't a neighbor who didn't know him. He never was fond of a whole lot of adults, but when the neighborhood kids were out he was right there with them. He would follow us where ever we walked and sat as the kids colored with chalk on the sidewalk. He sat keeping watch when their bus was coming and he saw them off every morning. If he wasn't outside he was in the window making sure his babies were okay. That was my boy! Protecting the house and the family.

He was such a beautiful boy. I'd open the door at night and yell come on Figgy. Where's mama's handsome boy and you'd see him come running down the street for home. We had to bar him from being outside all night after an unfortunate run in he had with a skunk. That was the day I learned when giving a cat a deskunking bath wear gloves!

Just before Christmas Figgy wasn't acting right. He didn't go outside for over 24 hours. That wasn't at all like him. I was up getting the kids ready for school and Figgy threw up. No big deal cats do that. I was on the phone with my friend later that morning and he threw up again. This time after he hunched up like he was going to go to the bathroom on the floor. I yelled no Figgy and grabbed him. My beautiful baby boy collapsed in my arms and let out this scream that scared me. He never got up again. He just howled in pain. I rushed him to the vet and found out he was a very sick cat. He had a blockage and he couldn't pee. Everything had been backing up. Figgy was going to have to be put down.

I lost it. This was my baby, my friend. This was the protector of our children and home. He really was the king of the neighborhood, even if he was a little odd looking without that tail. The vet gave him some pain medicine so I could hold him pain free for a while. I told him how sorry I was, how much I loved him, and called him my handsome boy. I just sat there for twenty minutes that seemed like just five, petting my little buddy. What was I going to tell the kids? Even the vet cried as she put the shot into his little leg and he took his last breath in my arms. I'm not sure the exact moment he died as I just keep petting him and talking to him.

They asked me if I wanted his ashes and I asked them why I couldn't take him home? They said I could if I wanted. My husband said he was so glad I did. I'd promised Figgy when we left for the vet I was bringing him home and I kept that promise. My step dad dug his grave and we found a perfect stone to use as a gravestone. We plan to attach his paw print come spring. For now though I can look out my kitchen window, through the hole he ripped in the screen and see his grave. In the corner sun spot he loved so much.

So I have heard it asked do animals go to Heaven. The day Figgy passed I knew that answer. YES YES YES! How could they not? They love us, they care, the feel, they have a soul. Their bodies like ours are just vessels for that soul. I know now that Figgy is waiting for me. Another thing I'm sure of now... there's no mice left in Heaven, or rabbit, or moles, or leaves........