Sixteen Years and Three Months

 

She wasn't anything special – just one of a thousand stray kittens born on the downtown streets, seeking shelter in doorways and scrounging for food in the back alleys. At about 6 weeks, she made her way to the back entrance of the camera store and got herself noticed. For several days they took her inside during the day, gave her food and water, and then put her back out at might until at one point, I had an errand at the store and stopped in and discovered her. She came home with me that very day.

She was a pretty but shy animal, submissive and somewhat of a loner, not a sign of the usual feistiness you so often find in stray kittens. Just a garden variety tabby who adapted quietly to a house full of dogs and other cats and never gave me a moment's worry. She lived her whole life as part of the background – calm, dignified and hardly ever demanding or arrogant. She was content to be fed and sheltered and cared for and only rarely would seek the comfort of my lap where she would curl up and snooze. She mostly kept her thoughts to herself. She traveled well, never provoked her siblings, never tried to escape out the back door or misbehave in any way. Until she got sick, she was a perfect little lady.

When she was diagnosed with kidney disease, we changed her food and added medications. She improved for a few short months but I could see her deteriorating. The initial weight loss was barely noticeable but by the time she died, she weighed just a little over 4 pounds. She stopped eating, stopped vocalizing, stopped playing with the dog, and retreated to a basket bed by the back door. The only signs that she ever left it, were the regular puddles of pee everywhere. She could still jump from flat footed to the kitchen countertop to eat although she rarely did. I cleaned, mopped up and sprayed after her every day, gently moving her to the litterbox whenever I caught her in the act and

learning to live with it. It was a difficult time but each time she managed to climb into my lap and consent to be petted and stroked until she fell asleep, I thought well, we can do this a little longer.

It's an inconvenience but it's not fatal. Until, of course, it was.

I wrapped her in a bath towel and carried her to the vet. She rested her head on my arm the whole drive and when we got to the vet and laid her out on the exam table, she didn't cry or protest, but lay still, her emaciation and slightly labored breathing the only signs of her struggle. The first injection sedated her and the second stopped her heart. She died quietly and peacefully and I held her until she took her last breath. After 16 years and 3 months, it was a final kindness, the only kindness I had left to give her.

Rest in peace. little girl. I was blessed to have you.