I would do anything for love…

It all started with the great cat hunt of 1999. A mother cat was found dead along the road at a campsite and it was known that there were kittens. And so D’s parents joined the great cat hunt - searching through the woods trying to find the kittens.

There was a sneaky one – the one who walked on top of the log while others searched below. The one who almost caused injury in her determination to remain free. But she was caught and D’s parents brought home two kittens.

At the time, I was still in mourning over the death of my nineteen year old cat, Midnight, and under the self-imposed one year without pets rule. And then I met that kitten. This beautiful black and white tiny kitten that fit in the palm of your hand with a personality so large. I managed to hold fast to my rule until October when we moved into our new place and then she joined us. She was rambunctious and playful. Oh the trouble she would get into. Oh the love she would generate.

She never meowed. Not fully – she was a squeaker. It was this abbreviated meow – more ‘meh’ than meow. But she spoke volumes with it. When our renovation in the basement happened, she developed this yowl that would echo down the stairs. We’re not sure why she started this, but she never stopped. She would eat and then start yowling. We tested her sight and hearing, but it was just a quirk she picked up.

While I quickly established my role as dominant, D was not so lucky. She tried sleeping in our bed at first, but a certain someone kept rolling over and almost squishing her. So she returned the favor by hiding under the bed and attacking as D walked by. Unfortunately, it was funny and I am sure my laughter only encouraged her. Eventually, we set up my nightstand as a bed for her and she would lie, purring and snoring near us. As she got older, we set up steps, so she wouldn’t have to jump as far.

I remember relearning how to shuffle my feet as I walked around the house – cognizant that a tiny kitty was always where I would least expect her. If I was cooking, she was in front of the fridge. If I was cutting veggies, then she laid in the middle of the kitchen. She just wanted to be with me even if I was constantly moving her so I could do something.

I taught her how to sit and stay for treats and for a while, she would come on command. She always knew to get a treat all she had to do was sit. Oh how she loved her treats – cheese, cheezies, peanut butter butterscotch square crumbs. And I can’t forget milk and ice cream. She never developed lactose intolerance and if you had cereal or ice cream in a bowl, there would be a nose in the bowl every time. She knew the site of the slush float cup and I had better be prepared to share or I would hear all about how horrible I was.

I remember how I would dance in the living room and she would perk up and let me know she wanted to join. We would dance together song after song; she would curl into my neck, purring away and enjoying our time moving to the music. She loved my singing and sometimes I would sing her to sleep.

Boxes were her favorite toys and she would sit for hours in a box, tearing away at it with her teeth. She loved playing with catnip mice for a good half hour and then would get bored. Give her a honeysuckle pillow and she would lick that thing for hours. We spent so much money on toys but she had just a few favorites. One of her favorites was this orange kitten pillow. It has buckwheat in it that you can warm in the microwave, but she never liked that. She just liked to lay on the pillow. It was great for getting her to stop snoring.

When she was 10, she developed diabetes. She just stopped eating and drinking. We knew something was wrong. So we spent time and money learning how to give her shots, reworking her food, learning to do glucose curves. We rearranged our lives to be home for her to give her shots. We had a few friends we trusted to take care of her that we knew she tolerated. Several of them disappointed us and we became more protective of her. I became very selective in who I trusted her care with and we learned to rearrange our lives some more. It was rare that one of us was not around to care for her. And on the odd occurrence it happened, it would only be for one meal.

There were times when I just was annoyed with the limitations, but then I would come home and she would give me that look and a little chirp and you just had to cuddle up to her. She always knew when I was home and would be at the door to greet me. When I started getting rides home from work with a friend, she started sleeping in between the front and back doors as she never quite knew which door I would be at.

During the days you could find her in the window, watching the birds, sleeping in the sun. If she was in the window when I was coming home or working outside, she often would look up and you could see the excitement and love in her eyes.
So many nights we spent cuddling on the sofa or the ottoman, watching shows or listening to music. When we had company, she would either take over her ottoman or lay in her box watching everyone.

I remember how good she was with babies – amazing considering how much she hated other adults. But her patience with children was astounding. As she aged, the friendlier and more calm she became. She went from only tolerating people to accepting petting and then demanding it from people she would previously have hissed at.

She loved running water and often I had to scoot her out when I wanted to take a shower. I remember coming home from girls’ night to find a soaking wet cat at the bottom of the stairs while the boys laughed and played in the basement. Oh the scare we had. It took months before she would come near the tub. And while she eventually returned to joining me in the shower every morning, she would jump out as soon as the water turned on. But first, it was her massage time – she developed arthritis in one knee and hip. And so before I got to shower, I first had to give her a massage to limber her up and then she would wait at the edge of the tub, licking soap off of me when she could as I showered.

She was so much like me sometimes. There was never any doubt that she was my cat first and then D’s. Even when I worked late, she was always waiting for me. When I was stressed out, she would come over to be petted or just cuddle. She was my lifeline, especially lately with how crazy work has become. I knew when I got home she would be waiting for me with love in her eyes.

So my heart is broken today as I made one of the hardest decisions of my life. I had to choose to let her go, to stop the pain and not be selfish. It seemed like things were getting better, but since the incident just a week and a half ago, she hasn’t been the same. And I feel horrible that we both had such a big scare and then I had to go away for a week. And when I got back, she was clingy and loving and trying to tell me that things weren’t good. I had been counting on my holidays and being home and able to spend time with her. She hasn’t been eating, but she gets depressed when I am gone, so I was watching her to ensure she was getting back to normal.

This morning, when the first number we got on the curve was 2.3 and I knew I had just given her insulin, we rushed her to the vet. After several hours there, it was off to Vet-Emergency. We did x-rays and ultrasounds. And ultimately, what they determined is she had fluid in her abdomen, but they don’t know why, which is what was causing the shallow breathes and the lack of eating. There was a mass on her liver which was enflamed. There were two masses in her lungs. There was a great chance that these masses were cancer and for a senior cat with diabetes, the prognosis wasn’t good. So I held her and shared with her all of my love and then I petted her while she fell asleep forever. At just a month shy of her 16th birthday, my poor kitty is no longer with us.

And I cried. I cried from 8:30 this morning straight through to now. I miss her so much and my house is filled with her things. I want to hold her some more and dance with her one last time. I know she knows how much I love her and that I would do anything for her. Even break my heart so she doesn’t hurt anymore. But my problem now is how do I go on? How do I deal with an empty house? How do I deal without my kitty who calms me, who loves me unconditionally, who is my best friend? How do I go out and be friendly, when really, I just want to curl up and cry? It’s just not fair.

There is a part of me that wants to take everything down and just put it all away – toss it, donate it, whatever. There is a part of me that doesn’t want to change a thing. If I leave it there, then maybe it will feel like she will come back. And tomorrow D’s parents are coming over and I just don’t want to deal with any censure. It’s my and D’s grief and we will deal with it as we need to. I just wish I knew what that was right now.

So the first official work day of my holidays – royally sucks. Please universe – I need some positivity. I need to feel better. I need a break.