Tribute to Alex
April 1993 - December 30, 1997




Alex was a beautiful, tiny kitten that we purchased at a pet store along with her sister, Stormy. The store told us they were eight weeks old, but we think they were actually closer to five weeks old. Due to being neglected by the pet store, we almost lost both kittens the week we got them to dehydration and malnutrition. Fortunately, a good vet was able to help them.

Alex was our adventurous cat. She was not much for cuddling; instead, she preferred exploring and playing. She always seemed to be having a good time. She could often be seen packing her catnip toys or any small stuffed animal she ran across around the house. There was nothing that existed that she did not want to know more about. No drawer, box, or closet would ever go unexplored. Sometimes I would see her in one room, walk into another, and there she was, as if by magic. She loved life so much, and was in such a hurry to find out about everything, that she often seemed to be everywhere at once.



Everyone loved Alex. Humans were crazy about her, with her big eyes and delicate features. She never grew very large, and almost everyone mistook her for being a kitten. Charlie, my large white and orange cat who doesn't get along with any other animal, had a wild crush on her, and would follow her wherever she went, completely lovesick. Her best friend in the world was our Labrador retriever, Annie. They loved each other so much, and could often be found cuddling together, washing each other's ears and faces.

We had no warning that Alex would be leaving us at such a young age. She seemed to be in good health up until the night before her death on December 30, 1997. That night she seemed lethargic, and we decided to take her to the vet first thing in the morning. There were no signs that it was anything more serious than a simple virus. The next morning, she was barely conscious and having convulsions. We called the vet to get her in as soon as possible. This took much begging on our part to get our vet to come in early. He finally showed up ten minutes before the office would have opened it's doors anyway, told us it was a virus, and he'd run some tests. He acted completely unconcerned. We drove the 10-minute car ride home, and were home for five minutes when he called and told us that she had died, and he "kind of thought that would happen". Later, he billed us an extra $50 for coming in early that morning. Obviously, if we had known how sick she was, we would never have left her there to die alone. Needless to say, this jerk is not our vet anymore. He claimed that Alex died of a virus, but we now believe, as does our new vet, that it is more likely that she ingested a toxic substance.



In spite of the sad way that she passed on, what I will remember most about Alex is how much she loved life, and made every minute she spent count. Most humans do not have enough sense to do that. She did not live a long life, but it was a happy one, and she filled our lives with the joy she had for living.




Farewell my humans,
Yet not farewell,
Where I go you too shall dwell.
I am gone before your face,
A moment's time, a little space,
When you come where I have stepped,
You will wonder why you wept.
~ Author Unknown