I got her as a gift from my ex-boyfriend who was then a vet tech. I named her Katarina, Carly's real name, from the Days of Our Lives. Crystal Chappel played her and I thought she was just gorgeous. That boyfriend used to call me Baby Girl. And for some reason I kept calling her MamaGirls, which shortened to Mamas eventually.
Her name also created a nickname I had for my friend, Mela. I called her MelaGirls.
Mamas was never really a lover or cuddler. She would love for a second and then be completely over it within a minute. The dogs I have had kind of took over each place. Poor girl. Before I had dogs, I would come home and she'd let me pick her up. She'd drool with the loving she's getting and then freak out, jump off me and scratch me as she leapt. There were so many scratches that sting on my chest after instances like that.
She loved milk. I would sometimes give her the rest of the milk in my cereal bowl. She would use her right paw to drink from the bowl whether it was for milk or water. She liked to move her bowl around and leave wet spots to surprise you as you walk near them.
I remember she urinated on a boyfriend's backpack that was on the floor while we were having sex. I take it she knew better than I did that that relationship wasn't going to work.
And she scared the shit out of Bevo.
Mamas was not to be messed with. And not much of a lover to the very end.
The doc did the exam, gave me her diagnosis, provided me with my options but they could make her better temporarily or make her worse. Her organs seemed to be shutting down, says the doc. Since she's not eating anyways, making her take medication would be a challenge and the thought of her not feeling well and me trying to keep her alive for an unknown amount of time, fearing I would come home to a lifeless body, wouldn't be good and not a way I'd want her to suffer through by herself. So I let her go.
They gave her a shot in the thigh to sedate her and told me they would return in 10 minutes. I did what I could to comfort her, put my head near her Braveheart-like painted face and I talked to her. She slowly put her head down, her eyes remained open and she became unresponsive to my touch or my voice. The doctor came in with the needle and they repositioned Mamas to give her the shot in her inner thigh. Tears contributed to fall as I watched the liquid get pumped into this frail, little body that I have had since it was a kitten. And the doc said her heart has stopped.
Sleep well, MamaGirls.