One Less Meow to Answer

This week I must say goodbye to a part of our family.  Yes, she's just a cat. But she's been a part of the family for longer than the children.

We adopted Katzchen from an acquaintance's front porch in the early years of our marriage.  This poor little creature, too young to leave her mother, was terrified to join our little family.  She was alternately ignored by and hissed at from our other cat.  We laughed at her from the beginning.  She got so exhausted adjusting to us the first day that she fell asleep standing up with her paw in the air.  She soon became our happy lap cat.  The other cat avoided us or not depending on mood, but Katzchen always wanted to be with us.  She and I  bonded over a mutual affection for Pop Tarts and Spaghettios.  Then there was the time she cornered the mouse in my shoe in our basement apartment.   Nope, this cat wouldn't consider a mouse food, merely a plaything.  It wasn't until we brought another little being into our home that Katzchen's true wonderfulness came out.  When Becky (as she was then) cried, the other cat hid under the couch.  Katzchen came to fetch us.  She looked at us as if to say, "Hello, people, the kitten is crying. Get moving."  On the evenings that we tried to get the baby to fall asleep on her own (who was that idiot child expert who thought that was a good idea?), Katzchen would stand outside the bedroom door and stare at us.  There was no enjoying whatever we were trying to do while Becky cried (as if), with the babysitter on duty.  In fact, Katzchen still does this.  If someone is upset, she comes to get us.

Katzchen has been relatively flexible with the other additions to the family.  Baby #2 was accepted without question, although she wasn't as tolerant of the racket.  The kittens were not met with such favor.  She was pretty irritated when Trouble joined us- since he's such a pain in the butt, I can't help but agree with her opinion on that.  She learned to ignore him.  When Trampoline entered the picture, she gave us a look like "not again".  Since Trouble and Tramp entertained each other pretty well in those days, she was happy enough to retain the laps and lose the youngun attention. 

Several years ago, Katzchen was the beneficiary of an over-priced cancer removal surgery.  (What were we thinking?)  The funniest thing about that was the cone she had to wear on her head, which really irritated her and scared the heck out of Trouble.  It was pretty amusing to watch him skeedaddle when he saw her or heard the plastic scraping some random surface.  Then a couple years after that, the most expensive veterinarian in State College, clued us in that she was at risk for kidney failure.  We tried to take care of her with the special food.  Three cats sharing the same food bowl made that an expensive endeavor that we eventually gave up on.  Ignoring this issue worked out well for us for a long time. Probably not so much for her.

Alas, we can ignore this no longer.  Katzchen is clearly very sick and very old.  Her soft coat is icky.  The cat who used to be able to jump from the floor to the top of the entertainment center now has trouble climbing up a chair or on the bed.  Her eyesight is going.  A few weeks ago she fell down an entire flight of wooden stairs.   She's always been a big yakker, but lately it's much worse.  And clearly it exhausts her.  Today she yakked, tried to walk and fell down.  So, the thought that has been in the back of my mind for months is now in the front of my mind.

So. On Friday, when the kids are home from school, we'll be taking our beloved and wonderful cat to a place that will end with cat heaven.  I know she has forgiven us for everything we have done to her.  Nonetheless, we will pamper this cat as much as we can this week.  She deserves all of the tuna in the store (her favorite thing on earth- besides us perhaps), lots of petting and chin scratching, bowls of milk. Her last car trip (her least favorite thing on earth, besides moving) will be traveling in style in her favorite blanket with her head peeking out as she cries, "what the heck are you doing to me now?" in that disapproving old cat voice.  We will miss that crotchety rarr. 

Many apologies to my friends who have suffered real loss.