My little girl kitty, aged 17, has died. She was the BEST kitty, as the title of this entry says. I miss her already. I think Linus (her brother, also 17) misses her some as well.
Last Tuesday, she seemed her normal self. Sure, she was old and she had kidney disease. But she was eating and drinking and cuddling like normal. But on Wednesday morning, I couldn’t find her in the morning. She didn’t come out for her crunchy food (which I had to feed to her away from Linus since he can’t eat crunchy food, but doesn’t KNOW he can’t) and wasn’t in her normal morning spots. But just before I left for work, she came out from hiding, but didn’t seem interested in her crunchies.
Wednesday after work, I looked around for her and finally found her hiding under the bed. We sat on the bed and she ate a couple of generic brand churus (the pureed meat in a tube that’s very popular with cats, mine included) and then drank some water. But she was walking funny, like her back legs weren’t working right, and she toppled over a few times. It was after the vet hours when I observed these symptons, so I sent an email to Miami Acres Animal Hospital to see if I could get her in on Friday (they close early on Thursdays).
Thursday morning, she wasn’t under the bed where I could get to her, so I went to work without seeing her. While I at work, I checked my personal email and found a response from Miami Acres – they actually had some openings for the morning. I checked with my principal and he said I could head out if I found someone to look after my physics class, which I did. It was 4th period and I had no students then, so I walked home get my car, and decided I’d also get Lucy. I found her easily and put her in a little basket she likes sitting in. And I put Linus’ harness & leash on her. I set her in the back of my classroom away from any kids who were allergic (good thing too, one of my physics students said he was). Lucy got up and left the basket once I started explaining to the kids what I wanted them to do once I left. The kids who wanted to pet Lucy were able to do so, then we headed off.
Dr Johnston gave her some subcutaneous fluid, a B-vitamin shot and a shot to help her appetite. He was a little more optimistic than I had been when I came, and I appreciated his positivity and how much he cares for our pets. I got Lucy back home and I returned to school. After school, I couldn’t find Lucy, and assumed she was deep in the bowels under the bed. But as I was working in the den, I kept hearing a rustling, like she was on the cot that’s currently folded up in its bag on the other side of the den. I’d look over and wouldn’t see her and I knew Linus was sleeping on the sofa in the living room. Finally, I heard more rustling and looked over to see Lucy coming out from behind the monitors I have at the other end of my room-length work table. So we cuddled while I worked on my PC. That evening Lucy and I did a lot more cuddling (but I also had some quality cuddling time with Linus, too.) But Lucy still wasn’t all that interested in food or drink. And her back legs seemed even more useless.
Friday was Fall Fair at school, so my plan was to drive to work, pop back home during the day to check on Lucy, and spend most of the evening at the school. But when I did return home, I found Lucy lying in a puddled of her own pee (she was, thankfully, lying on some crumpled up paper, which kept the puddle from spreading more). I got a towel and wrapped her in it and called the vet. Unfortunately, Dr. Johnston was still at lunch, but his attendant said she’d give him the message. Lucy’s back legs at this point were useless, but she managed to crawl to where she wanted to go.
After school, I set up the booth that our Drama Club was going to have for the Fall Fair (we had Disney’s Frozen scavenger hunt for kids to do) and once things were ready there, I called the vet back. Sadly, the next option was euthanasia. Once Tiffany, my co-director, arrived at the Fair, I headed back to check on Lucy. She had managed to get herself onto the comfy chair, so we sat together in the chair for awhile and I cried. I talked more with the vet attendant about the next step and scheduled an appointment for Monday.
I did feel guilty for leaving Tiffany alone to look after the booth, so I did return, visited all of the other booths and spent some money. Then with Tiffany’s blessing, I got my pork dinner and returned home. So then Lucy and I cuddled more, and eventually all three of us were on the sofa and binging Star Trek: Discovery.
Friday night, I placed Lucy on her side of the bed (Linus always sleeps curled up next to me, but Lucy would either sleep on her side of the bed, or in colder months, on top of me). But at some point in the night I heard her plop down on the floor and drag herself somewhere. I found her the next morning in the den in her box (toothly decorated by both kitties, but mostly Lucy), sleeping. I had breakfast and cleaned the kitchen and got everything ready for as much cuddling as we could do in the comfy chair in the library. Then I carefully got her from the box and we cuddled. I could tell this was going to be her last day with us.
After a couple of hours of cuddling and, for me, crying, the spark that was Lucy left her body. I probably held her for awhile after, but eventually I put her back in her box. I found Linus and showed her to him, but after a sniff and a look, he wasn’t interested and hopped away. (My morbid humor pictured him saying “She is dead to me!” as he hopped away.)
My parents, who are wonderful folks, had offered to get groceries for me on Saturday so I could spend as much time with Lucy as possible. But Lucy, who thankfully took the decision on whether to euthanize or not, died before they headed out. So I decided to get out of the house some, see the folks and get groceries. I transferred Lucy’s box to the garage and went to Troy. That night, Linus and I binged more Star Trek: Discovery.
My sister, who is also wonderful, had talked with me after Lucy died (after Linus and I did some cuddling), and had offered to help me dig a grave for Lucy in my garden. So on Sunday, she and I donned jackets, gloves, and grungy clothes to dig a hole for the shoe box that Lucy’s vessel that held her spark (as I described it on the box) was in. I managed to pick the worst spot in my garden to dig, apparently. But we cut down lots of roots (both pokeweed and cedar shrub) while we dug the hole and eventually we had the box buried. We said some words of hope for future plants and critters to get nourishment from the body and comments on how Lucy was a sweet kitty. Amy had brought a mini pie from Madeleine (her girlfriend, who is Salty Lark Pies) and I gave Amy some chili soup which I started that morning.
Linus and I spent most of the rest of the day together, either cuddling or sitting side-by-side on the sofa (binging, as you might guess, Star Trek: Discovery.)
Lucy, my beautiful, sweet, bundle of joy – you were loved, you will be remembered, and you gave me so much love. I will miss you!
No need to feel guilty.
Family first.
Always.
Such a lovely, loving tribute, Trina. My heart cries with you.
I’m so glad you got to spend those last hours with Lucy. And I laughed out loud at “she’s dead to me.” Thank you for sharing.
Thank you for sharing this
Journey. Hugs.
You were a good Mommy to my grandcat…..and a good daughter to me.