I always ask God for help in my life, and I always ask him to make His will obvious to me,through signs the size of billboards. Today I got a billboard.

Frosty is dead. He was sick yesterday, and worse today. I took him into the vet, they took him and sent me home. Ron called to check up on Frosty and they told us the bad news. Here's the billboard: kidney and liver failure, major systemic infection, no hope of survival. Pretty obvious.

We only had one question, could we come in to say goodbye? We called yet another cab, and went to the clinic. We went into a small, quiet room. Frosty was resting comfortably on the table, with his front paws tucked underneath him. An IV port stuck out of a back leg.

We said our goodbyes, and I got my last petting and kisses. He flicked just the tip of his tail, like he does when he's in my lap. I stroked him gently as the shots were administed, and he was gone.

Fortunately for us, our job was obvious. The vet guesstimated Frosty at about 13 years old. That means he was an old man of 8 when he came to live with us.

When we first met him, Bubba had brought him home. Frosty was completely unsocialized and ran away from me as I brought him a can of tuna. It took a month or so to teach him that we were "cool", that petting was fun, and the interior of a home had delicious climate control!

We spoiled him rotten. Daddy ordered him special grain-free treats off the internet. Mommy bought him Wellness Core cat food, also grain free and over $4 a pound. MY food doesn't cost that much. He had soft laps, warm beds, wonderful spots all over the house, cat doors, open windows, a garden, and loving family to indulge his every whim.

I knew he was sick when he stopped begging for cat treats. I hoped, as everyone does, that whatever was wrong could be fixed. However, he was so miserable this morning I knew he needed help.

The vet was wonderfully compassionate and merciful. Frosty's passing was very peaceful and pain-free.

I had my hysterics at home when Ron repeated the words "Kidney failure" while talking to the vet. I've cried quietly, off and on today.

God, I miss that cat. Bubba's a wonderful boy but he'll never be my lap baby like Frosty. Maybe he'll bring me another cat someday.

If I can trust God with the care of my soul, I can certainly trust him with the soul of my cat. I know he's in heaven right now, eating his way through a mountain of cat treats, while my deceased mother and grandmothers spoil him.

I still miss him, but I have no doubts that he needed to be euthanized.

http://picasaweb.google.com/RCHeather/RIPFrosty?authkey=Gv1sRgCPPH6qPiuNazxwE#slideshow - Link to Frosty photos slideshow