beloved Louise

As I've mentioned to some, my darling kitty died suddenly Thursday morning. She'd been fighting intestinal lymphoma for nearly a year, and recently, she had lost several pounds. Her vomiting had subsided, and I had fooled myself into thinking that her condition was getting a little better. Still, I had a dread that she might go while I was on this two-week holiday. This is one of those times when I hate my intuition being right. I had wanted to be with her at the end, and I had even told her that I would be, and all she had to do was tell me when she was ready.



I'm feeling both guilty and hurt that I wasn't there with her and didn't get to say goodbye like I wanted to, which makes me feel even more selfish. My mom says sometimes animals don't want their owners to see them die, and so they wait for their owners to be away, or they take themselves off somewhere to be found later. This year, I've tried to pay more attention to others' point of view, and I guess that even includes a cat's side of things.



The vet called me at 12:30 am Australia time to tell me that Louise had stopped eating, and he asked permission to do some blood work. He also offered to give her an acupuncture treatment. I said yes to both and hoped for the best. He called an hour later, and I could tell by the shakiness in his voice that something was wrong. He said her blood work was horrible, her white blood cell count was all off, and they tried to give her an IV catheter when she suddenly went into cardiac arrest. One doesn't seem to be related to the other. They tried CPR but couldn't revive her. He kept saying, "I'm so sorry for you" and "Everyone here is really upset." I couldn't think of much to say at all except, "what do I do now?"



I'm grateful for everything the vets and the techs at Columbia Animal Hospital did for Louise this one last time and over the course of her life. They got us through a heart murmur and a thyroid condition, not to mention stubborn ear infections and coughs and teeth cleanings. I'm also grateful that they would think to call me directly, and very long distance, to tell me she was gone. I'm picking up her ashes and her blanket and food bowls when I get back to the States. I'm dreading that too - they're going to see me blubber like an idiot.



I'm also grateful to Cat Rescue of Maryland from whom I adopted Louise, and especially Lil Decker, who was Louise's foster mom. I will definitely be adopting from them again, though not right away.



I will remember these things about Louise:

• she would wake me up at 7 in the morning, almost on the dot, by tickling my face with her whiskers, and if that didn't work, pawing at my blankets
• she had her own tumbler of water on the bedside table to keep her from drinking out of my water glass
• she liked to peek into the lower kitchen cupboards to see if everything was still there, though she rarely went inside all the way
• she didn't care for being picked up and held, but she did like to snooze on my lap, especially when I was at the computer; she'd often stretch out a paw to hit the space bar, and hold it down
• she always greeted me at the door when I came home from wherever
• she liked to talk to the birds in the tree outside my window
• she made friends with my dog, and together they'd guard the bathroom door while I was taking a shower
• she'd yell at me whenever she had to go into the carrier, as she preferred being at home to anywhere else
• she very determinedly caught a mouse once and was quite proud of herself for the effort, going so far as to bring her catch to me once she had nabbed it
• she had several favorite hangout spots in the house - the most recent being the bathroom sink
• she liked to share my tuna salad and roast chicken
• she charmed non-cat people into liking her
• she had the prettiest green eyes and the most curious black spots
• much as I love my dog, she made me a cat person

I loved her very much, and I'm grateful she let me be her mom for awhile.

Goodbye, Louise. I'll see you at Rainbow Bridge someday.