On losing a puddy-tat...

In approximately 14 hours, the vet will come to my home and put my little kitty "to sleep."

She's not actually a kitten, we just call her that, to differentiate her from our older cat. In fact, she's only six years old - but she has cancer.

The symptoms appeared last February, when we all thought she had a cold. Back and forth to the vet several times to change meds, to get an x-ray, to get directed to the vet college in St. Hyacinthe. There they did a biopsy and gave us the bad news in April. For around six thousand dollars, we could have dragged her to Guelph for radiation and extended her little life by two months. For a couple more, we could have gone for weekly chemo visits to St Hyacinth. But there was no doubt about the end of the road - it was terminal, point finale.

So, not being wealthy, we decided to watch her carefully for signs of pain, and let her just live out her little life her own way with no further disturbances.

"And how do we tell if she's in pain?" we asked the vet. "Well, they sleep a lot," came the answer. "And the appetite goes down."

Wow. At the risk of being funny, how the hell does one tell if a cat is sleeping a lot!?

(Actually, we did notice a difference in the past few weeks, so it is possible to tell.)

As for appetite, she's never eaten so much. However, she weighs about the same now as when she was eight weeks old.

The tumor is growing in her head, right behind her nose, which is why everybody thought she had a cold. Her breathing sounded at first asthmatic, then full-blown stuffed. Lately, we've been calling her "Cat Vader."

She can't lie down and breathe at the same time, so her sleep hasn't been the best, and neither has ours, since her breathing is quite loud.

And about a month ago, she started saying goodbye, I am convinced. She'd come sit on us at odd times and dunt her sweet face against us. She'd walk out on the street to do the same for the neighbours, and for other cats she was friendly with. She came to a bridge game with me, climbed up on the table, and dunted us all for fifteen minutes. She's been dunting the dog and the other cat, who both look depressed - they've figured out she isn't long for this world and are already in mourning.

But she ate, wanted out, and bounded across the yard, chasing bugs, jumping up the tree, rolling around on the ground. Thoroughly enjoying every minute of her little life.

And that's been her trademark all along. This little sweetie put her heart and soul into every single minute of her life. When she slept, she slept with all her heart, purring away. When she played, she knew no limits to fun and adventure. And she loved fully, completely. She'd walk with us no matter where we were going. Passers-by would stand and gawk, amazed that a cat would follow us so cheerfully.

She'd jump from the tree to the roof and back - once she was sure we were watching. She'd go up and down any ladder she saw - coming down face-first. She'd squeak softly if we patted her when she was sleeping. And she had the sweetest, tiniest little voice. She was always talking - "Squeaky" came to be her nickname - half-purr, half-voice. And she absolutely loved being outside.

Well, I could go on and on... but the time has come to put an end to her suffering. The tumor has distorted her facial bones, making her nose wider and crooked. And we're pretty sure she isn't seeing out of one eye. She carefully moves her head from side to side before going forward, and she startles easily if approached from that side. She's also starting to gag. So, all things considered, it really is "time".

I watch her sleep at night, or what passes for sleep at this stage for her. Her little head gets lower and lower, but at a certain point she wakes up because she can't breathe in that position. I know that it will be a great relief for her to finally be able to lower her head tomorrow and sleep at last.

I've asked her to visit me in my dreams. My other cats also visit me that way from time to time. I'm glad the vet will come here, to her home, so she can pass away without a traumatic car ride to an animal hospital that smells like god knows what to a cat! I'm even more glad that I'll know her end - so many cats go away from their homes when they sense the end is near, and the distraught family never knows what became of them. She'll be here, calm and loved and patted and held right to the end. And Hubby has made a wooden box to hold her remains, which will be buried here in her favourite garden. I'll be able to sit by her grave and chat with her or weep for her any time.

Am I nuts? Who can say. Everybody who loves animals knows how I feel, losing this precious, wonderful little character. Not everybody is as attached to cats the way I am... I know I'm odd...

But in a way, mourning her loss isn't only about her. I've been mourning a lot of things since hearing the diagnosis.

Last year about this time, my mother passed away. Far too young. And I hardly knew her, knew only bits and pieces of her life, since I wasn't raised by her (no fault of hers). We connected very deeply, in certain ways, but sadly, my mother's home was never really my home. We both wished it was, but the fact is, I grew up in a different home. One I hated for a good deal of my life, one I live in now.

So I've been mourning the loss of my childhood, the loss of connection with my mom, and my mother's early death, while my pussy-cat has been gasping for breath each night.

I've been mourning the mistakes of my first marriage, misunderstandings with my Daughter, problems with my second marriage. Problems with my Stepkids. Friends moved away who chose not to keep in touch. Growing old before I figured out how to be young. Years lost to a mood disorder that ruined many relationships before I got help. My Stepmother, who had a bad stroke this year, who I don't think will be around much longer. My dad, growing old, getting "funny." Well, funnier, anyway - I come by my oddness honestly!

My beautiful Auntie who died last year, my neighbour and friend who is getting on in years and making her home ready to sell. It's coming. Not yet, but one day. Maybe even soon. We never know how long we'll have, or what quality our lives will have.

Mourning my lack of connection to so many of the people I love. So much so, that I have to wonder if some of them even know that I love them!

It's a lot to put on a little cat, I know! Well, her approaching demise has simply brought to mind all these wounds, all these aches, all the losses I've ever suffered.

And reminded me of all the joys I still have. In the middle of all this pain, I can hear my mother's voice clearer in my mind than I ever heard it while she was alive. Now there is no limit to her understanding of my life, no distance between us. Hubby and I are more in love than ever before. I have wonderful, loving friends. I'm settling down at work, I'm getting to be a fairly good quilter. Daughter seems to be finding her way. Stepkids are growing. We're starting to think about retiring. About the end of the debts. About some peace to come.

And for my sweet little "Titty-Kitty", some peace, some rest from the constant struggle for breath, tomorrow. And, I hope, many, many sweet dreams to come.

Whimsy

Who's that pretty puppy dog,
Lyin' on the front steps like a log,
Lickin' her whizzer all the livelong day?

All she does is bark and eat
Then she goes to sleep sleep sleep -
But she's our pet and we love her anyway!

(sing to the tune of "here comes Peter Cottontail")

I can write stuff like this in under three minutes. I remember, line for line, poetry I learned when I was in grade school. Silly sayings from my Grandpa. I can recite a LOT of Monty Python by heart, complete with different voices for different characters. Same for episodes of Star Trek, ANY generation, movies I liked, books I've read, Red Dwarf, Fawlty Towers.... If you're playing Trivial Pursuit with me and you don't think I'm right about a line, tread carefully!

Ask me how many birthday cards I sent out on time this year?

None.

Ask me how much quilting I've been able to finish while on vacation?

None.

Ask me if I've vaccuumed yet.

You don't want to know.

I'm blogging now - not the blog that makes money, but this one, just for fun. I've stopped making a set of placemats to do this.

I'd rather engage in nonsense than do ANYTHING. Even if what I was doing was fun.

If it's whimsical and useless, I got it nailed.