As busy as our lives can be, sometimes objects of our affection become sick right before our very eyes, leaving us wondering how, and when it started to happen. It happened for my mother, who as a top sought-after Nurse working for an amazing Doctor dealt with my dad's upset stomach for years before finding out it was esophagus cancer with an extremely high mortality rate. She was so used to saving people, it was difficult to understand how this could happen in her own home, right under her nose. When did he get so sick?
In the Spring of 1992, my x husband and I stopped at a local heath fair to wander and enjoy a relaxing Sunday afternoon. As we approached the entrance there was a woman with a calico tabby cat in a cage and a sign, which read, "Free To the Right Owner". She was interviewing candidates for this cute calico cat. My x husband (who could rescue every animal in the free world if he could) naturally stopped out of curiosity. I hung back; as I know all to well once I touch an available animal I am tempted to own it.
The cat stretches her paw out of the cage and hooks the sleeve of his shirt holding on for dear life. The woman who owns the cat, spins around, smiles and says, "She wants you!" "Oh good lord" I thought, as about 15 other people standing talking to her about the cat, shoot my x and I dirty looks. He comes to me "Want a cat?" "We have a dog" I respond. As it was, I was walking the dog every night, feeding and bathing her even though he had brought the dog into our relationship. "Louise (the dog) loves cats!" he answers. ‘Really?’ I thought. Louise the dog loves to attempt to kill skunks, moles, birds, possums, and raccoons with great zeal so I can't imagine her loving a cat.
I told him we needed to talk about it since I don't like making snap judgments, so we walked away to enter the fair. I said, "If she is there when we leave - it was meant that we take her home with us". I was sure she would go to one of the people in the crowd that stood admiring her. My x husband never hurried through so many booths in his life. Upon leaving (which I swear was no more than 10 minutes), the cat was still there. The woman was contemplating giving her away at that moment as my x husband shouts, "We will take her!" Everyone turns, as the owner smiles with delight and answers "She is yours". Again, we get about 10 dirty looks as people walk off in a huff. I want to yell, "IT'S JUST A CAT PEOPLE!" Instead, I cuddled Annabel up in my arms and smiled. She was as soft as a cloud…and what a LOUD purr. It sounds like a hot rod engine.
That is how Annabel came into our lives.
Annabel was just over a year old. The woman gave us food, a bed and a carrying cage. Annabel was fixed and up on all her shots. Annabel was a feral kitten the woman rescued from under her porch. She lived on a busy highway; since Annabel loves being outdoors she was worried a car would eventually hit Annabel. She wanted to find her a home where she could roam outside. We just happened to live in a cottage in the country...
Annabel is the most wonderful gentle soul who lives to love everyone. She purrs so hard, she drools. We like to call her 'drooly kitty' over Annabel, which she responds to as if it is her given name. As it turns out, Louise the dog loved her and they often went hunting together ridding the property of any vermin they felt didn't belong. They loved to leave the evidence of the kill at the front step for us to admire. Uggg.
When Brian was born, Annabel changed to sleeping under his crib as if protecting him through the night. If he started to fuss, she would get up, come into our bedroom and meow telling us we needed to wake up and tend to Brian. As Brian became a toddler he would often carry her butt side up, as she would purr through the whole process, as if to say, "It's ok, he's just my boy".
In the most painful times of my divorce, she often crawled into my arms as if to say, "I know your heart hurts" and purrs so loud I forgot my troubled thoughts. She has slept with Brian, always wanting to protect him through the night. She spends her days from sun up to sun down, outside in the wilderness as if she is part lion. She is just not a cat you can keep inside. Sun bathing is her favorite daytime pastime and you can usually find her in the warmest hidden corner of the garden, curled in a ball with the sun beating down its rays of warmth.
After my divorce, when I could no longer afford the cottage in the country, it was time to move Brian in town so he could have more of a city life with friends. My x husband agreed to retrieve Annabel while I moved and set up the new place. I never thought moving would upset Annabel. She is so easy going and loving. When he went back to the cottage to retrieve her, Annabel had disappeared. We tried for weeks to find her, leaving food out - even to the point of setting traps, but all we ever caught were raccoons.
The new people at the cottage agreed to call us if they spotted her, which happened often, and I would race to the cottage only to find that she had disappeared again. This went on for a year - much to the great sadness of Brian, who at 4 could not understand why his drooly kitty abandoned him.
Then Christmas Eve came and I had a strange gut feeling. Christmas Eve has always been a magical night for me for as long as I can remember. I told Brian, "Did you know that Santa grants wishes on Christmas Eve?" "He does?" Brian asks wide-eyed. "Oh yes Brian, he does. Let’s close our eyes really hard and wish for Annabel to come back home to us for Christmas." We closed our eyes, made our wish, and at sunset got into my truck and drove over to the cottage. We got out and called and called her “Annabel…Annabel…kitty… kitty….droooooly kitty…her drooooooly kitty.” I began to think that I may have set Brian up for an awful Christmas Eve disappointment, and was about to become his great Christmas liar, when out from the field comes this thin version of our Annabel.
I cautioned Brian, as she had not seen us for a year and I wasn't sure if she turned wild so I gently approached her, but she would not come to me. Instead, she went to Brian who scooped her up, kissed her, and she started to drool. We brought her home on Christmas Eve, back where she belonged. For all you skeptics that don't believe in the magic of Santa Claus anymore, I can say that it does exist. Brian was on top of the world. It was wonderful to have drooly kitty back with us.
Ever since Christmas Eve those 5 years ago, Annabel has been happily making friends with everyone who comes to visit this little complex we now all call home. Different neighbors feed her treats; others give her loving pats and some even let her into their home. We have called her the ambassador, because she never lets anyone leave the complex without a meow and some love. We jokingly refer to it as "Forced loving" because no one could sneak by Annabel without a love. Even those that don't like cats love Annabel. She is just that kind of soul.
But lately our Annabel has become very thin, thinner than is normal for a pet that always has food available. I have even begun feeding her wet food mixing it with fish oil and egg yolks to see if she would put on weight. She is 14 years old, but is looking 18. I had to sit down this week and really watch her. To my shock (with all her loving, acting much the same, going in and out) while examining her close I can see she is painfully thin. Her breathing is heavy and her purr sounds like an asthma attack. I have been through this enough to know...
Our Annabel is dying.
I told Brian that I feel Annabel is very ill and had him notice the conditions I was seeing. Brian cried, and I explained that Annabel has lived a long and wonderful life. I called my x and told him my thoughts and asked him to come examine her. He has been a dog breeder and has a vast experience with animals. He came over this morning after Brian was in school and we watched Annabel together. Her breathing is heavy and hard. She is so thin that the act of breathing makes it appear that her ribs might break with every breath. This doesn't stop her from getting up on his lap and drooling her love all over him.
Her fur is thick, but it hangs on her body like someone who has tried on a fur coat three sizes too big. My x looks up at me as he feels her body, "Damn she is so thin." "I know, and I am feeding her three times a day, but it changes nothing" I reply. He looks me in the eye "I think our Annabel is very, very ill" "I know" I answer as tears begin to roll down my face. I have seen this before with the pets I grew up with. “Have you prepared Brian that she might be dying?” he asks, holding back his own tears. “Yes, and I told him we need to take her to the vet to see what is wrong .... and sometimes they don’t come back home from the vet. Brian wants to be a part of the decision” I answer. He nods in agreement.
This is where my x can be handy, as he says, "Let me go talk to the vet". He left the house and went to see the Vet who is a friend of his. Annabel will see the vet at 9:00 tomorrow morning. My feeling is that it is either a tumor or feline leukemia and we will have a choice to make. This is when Brian will be taught to understand the cycle of life. I already know this will break his heart as it does mine. Sigh, these are the times our children begin to see the painful side of growing up.
If she has to go I wish we could bring her home and bury her in the garden where she loves to lie amongst the burial memorials of the dead goldfish, tadpoles, hermit crabs we tried to raise without success. It is under this little clearing where the flowered branches meet, next to my pink rose bush just under Brian’s bedroom window. There is a Celtic cross statue that sits toward the back, against a flowering lily of the valley. The afternoon sun warms this spot upon the ground and Annabel loves to curl up there like a rounded rock in the garden. Of course the bird bath is not far to the left as she dreams of a bird wandering into her paws, but not motivated enough to actually hunt them.
As city ordinances go, they don’t allow an animal to be buried on property unless they die at home without much fan fare for officials to notice. I am still not able to wrap my head around the idea that we may have to decide to put her down. I have never thought of Annabel leaving us. She is a cat who has reinvented her life several times now, and most of all…
She's family.
Until next time-
C
