This will always be my favorite picture of my kitty. I always knew that when it was her time, she would let me know.
Last Wednesday, the hard decision was made to let Piper cross the rainbow bridge. She was a surprisingly stoic, rugged, but loving little lady who always made sure I knew how much she cared for me, even when I had not been very caring to myself.
Especially over the last (almost) two and a half years in Canada, while she and I have been sharing an in-law suite, she’d always been there to greet me when I got home after work with a loud (and sometimes pointed) meow.
As she approached the ripe old age of 19, she kept her natural decline to herself as much as she could. I could tell she was going through changes – her weight was beginning to drop and I could feel her spine poking through her back when I’d pet her. Her ability to groom herself was also starting to wane – I had to cut a few large mats out of her fur in early June. And it was getting harder for her to jump up on the bed for our nightly pets and nuzzling ritual, but she refused any kind of assistance.
During what would be her last days, she’d spent a lot of time near my window, feeling the sun. It was a perilous place to be – I had to watch out for her since I could easily roll into her with my office chair.
She didn’t hop up on the bed to be with me that last night, and in the morning it was clear she couldn’t hide whatever was going on any longer. Her breathing was extremely labored and she was restless and disoriented. She’d fully stopped eating and drinking water. I finished work early and called around to find an Urgent Care vet who could see her, knowing pretty well how things were going to play out. She got into the soft travel crate for the Vet without protest – something she’s never done.
Her meows on the half-hour drive to Urgent Care were definitely of a different tone than I’ve ever heard them. I thought back to all the trips we’d done together – the trips to the vet in Royal Oak to get her immunizations caught up and her flight health certificate to move to Austin, the flight together from Austin to Syracuse with her under the seat in front of me, and the car ride across the border to our new home in Canada. Her meows had always said “I know I have to do this, but I don’t like it.” On that final drive, it was more like “thank you for knowing what’s happening. I still don’t like all this traveling stuff, but I’ll miss it.”
The vets rushed her away from me pretty much at the door and put her on oxygen and an IV so they could stabilize her and get some idea what was going on. I sat alone in the exam room for about 10 minutes and then the vet came in with the news that her heart was giving out and her little body was beginning to shut down. It was her time.
They brought her in, wrapped in a warming blanket and I called up the kids and their mom who had been in Toronto for the long Canada Day weekend and we FaceTimed so they could all say their goodbyes. When they were ready, I hung up with them and signaled to the vet who had been waiting and then in a couple minutes, with me at her side, her struggle had ended.
I stayed with her for a while, thinking about how much I’d taken for granted her constant presence over the previous 16 years. She had always been so independent and unique. I thought of all the times I’d tried to get her to do some meme-y thing and she’d always look at me like “Do you believe everything you read on the internet about cat behavior? Really now, I thought you knew me better than that.” Of course I did – but that was part of what made it fun.
When I got back home without her, I could tell she was still there in the room with me, so I made sure to clean her litterbox and leave the food out and the water fountain running overnight. One of my kids asked me to share all the pictures I could find of her and then did an amazing digital painting of her on a bumpy train ride home.
By the next afternoon, after deciding what mementos the family needed of her, she let me put some of her things away. She now sits there on my shelving unit next to the digital frame I pulled out of storage and loaded up with all her pictures.
Her bed is still next to mine though.