Joy/pain

Its a horrible thing to loose a cat from being hit by a car, its even worse to loose two cats from being hit by cars in less than six week. I fell into that camp last Thursday. Soon after I introduced you to Henry, I planned on introducing you to my other cat, Ted. Though as you probably know, soon after you met Henry he was unfairly taken at the mere age of 3. We inherited Ted in April of this year when he was 3 months old and thought he would be great to keep Henry company, Henry didn't agree. He saw Ted as the new kid of the block taking up valuable bed space, and someone he now hand to share food and strokes with, though it didn't take long til they became thick as thieves  the double trouble of our neighbourhood, and it was pretty sure that if one was about, the other wasn't far. Alarm bells should have rung the night only Ted come home, but it wasn't really thought about, and the next day we had the horrible task of burying Henry. Like Henry, Ted was a massive character, he made me laugh so much, I could never get on and do things, as he just wanted me to stop, take a seat and stroke him to he fell asleep. I was rushing out of the door to work on Thursday morning, and while locking the front door I saw Ted's reflection, opening back up the door, I urged him to go inside, telling him he was a dirty stop out for being out all night, telling him I was late for work as it was, his beautiful eyes looked at me, and he hurried himself inside, dragging his back legs, my ipad and handbag fell from my hands, and I pleaded with God 'not again, please not again'. I screamed for my mum, wishing more than anything that my dad was here and not working in Qatar. He would of known what to do, he would of made everything all right. The next half an hour was a blur of yellow pages, internet searches, phone calls and fast driving desperate for a vet to help us. We were seen straight away, Ted seemed fine, he was temperature was normal, he wasn't crying in pain, he kept trying to get up so I could stroke him. She said he had a few broken bones, said a car must of just clipped him, there was no cuts, no bleeding, no explanation how I could be going through this again. Bones can be fixed she said, he could be stabilised and operated on she said, I got out my credit card and pleaded with her to help, please please please I said, whatever it takes, whatever it costs. She no longer met my tear soaked eyes. But she said, no but I said, I don't like but, just help him I screamed, please Miss she soothed, he has nerve damaged, just fix him I replied, he can't tell he needs to go a toilet, we can't fix nerve damage she said, what are you saying I screamed. She looked at the floor and stepped back, he can't be fixed. The room started spinning and I physically felt sick. I dropped to my knees, now eye level with Ted, he pulled himself closer to me and as tears violently fell from my eyes, I kissed him on the nose and told him I was so so sorry. I told him how much I loved him, I told him to keep Henry company, and I promised him he would no longer feel any pain. I looked into his eyes for what felt like hours, then he nudged my hand, and muffled in the background, I could hear the vet telling me it was time. And just like that, he was gone from my life at just 10 months old. I wish I could say the joy of having cats outweighs the pain of losing them, but I don't think it does.