Tuesday, January 21, 2014
TO LOSE A PET … We recently lost our girl Chloe, a beautiful grey and white female cat. We never knew her original name or age. She was a rescue cat. We were reading the papers one day and there was a story of a cat that had been tied up in a plastic bag and tossed at the doors of the local Humane Society! It was that cat that we adopted a few days later. She had a lot of emotional/psychological problems after her experience. The Society thought she was about 3 years old but our Vet thought more like 6. We had her for 10 years so she was most likely 16 when her kidneys and hind legs failed her. I believe that her former owners must have been moving and were unable or unwilling to take her with them because every time suitcases came out, or boxes were packed, or furniture moved, she would get quite upset and actually get sores on her back. Garbage day with plastic bags was a nightmare for her.
We first got Chloe as company for me when I had to quit work and was at home alone all day and ill. It wasn’t long however until she decided she was my DHs cat rather than mine, lol. She would wait for him at the top of the landing by the side door when it was time for him to come home and follow him to the rec room while he fed his tropical fish as soon as he came home from work. In the evening she would get up off her spot on the couch and go to whatever room my DH was in and beg to get up on his lap for a brushing or just petting. Later, she would wait again at the top of the stairs for him to come up to bed and then race down the hall to get to the bedroom before him. She would beg to be lifted up on the bed and when there, would snuggle down in beside my DH kissing his arm, rubbing her head on his side, and nudging him if he dared to fall asleep before she’d had her fill of attention.
As for me? I was the one who fed her and cleaned up after her. She would ignore me for most of the day unless she desperately needed or wanted something. Even at mealtimes she would ignore me. If I didn’t produce a meal however, when my DH would come into the kitchen she’d howl and carry on letting him know how much I had abused her. At bedtime, she would get in a real huff when I came to bed interrupting what she thought was her time with my DH and would only stay up on the bed for a few minutes after I’d settled in – no skin off my nose, lol. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t like me, she acted like she was in competition for my DHs affections. Sometimes she’d carry on so much it was just plain comical.
But, love me or not, I loved her dearly. When we had to have her put down I thought my heart would break. The first few days were the worst but even now, a month later, I still listen to see if I can tell where she is, and she isn’t. Out of the corner of my eye I’ll see something on the couch in my peripheral vision and glance over expecting to see Chloe curled up sleeping peacefully, but she isn’t. When I come in the door, I want to call out that “we’re home Chloe.” The same when we leave, I want to call out that “we’re going out but will be back soon,” but she isn’t there to hear. I still find myself standing back from the counter where her bowls sat on the floor in front of as if I’d put my foot in them if they were still there, but they’re not. My DH and I both walk so carefully down the hall if up in the night so that we don’t trip over her, but she’s not there. I miss the times she would get into my lap and let me brush her or pet her, but she’ll never do that again. She loved having me use the electric massager for our backs on her back. If we turned it on, she’d come running from wherever she was in the house, but no more. She was so much a part of our lives it will take a long time to get over the day-to-day missing of her. We’ve lost a member of our family and she will remain in our hearts and be forever thought of fondly. We’ll laugh over her idiosyncrasies and her jealousy, but we’ll cry over the hole she has left in our hearts.