04/13/2018
It has been a rough year, so far, as we bid farewell to our second cat in as many months. I only saw Funny Girl a couple of times in the middle of the night when she lived at Sam's house (when I got up to use the bathroom). A beautiful girl in a house full of boys (cats), she kept to herself. She'd emerge from time to time for some love from Sam, always on her terms, but she wouldn't go near me and stayed hidden whenever I was there. She was aptly named.
I figured that her life here would be more of the same, that I'd be lucky if she walked through a room I was in on the way to the litter box or food bowl. We set her up in a closed room to give her a chance to settle in (she was the last of the clowder to arrive). Of course, she found a hiding place and tucked herself in tightly. Knowing she'd have to get used to sharing this space with me, I barged into the room repeatedly and sat with her while she hid, sweet-talking her and trying to offer her treats. One evening, she just sauntered out of the wicker basket under which she'd been hiding and came right up to me. The door was cracked behind me and the light was on brightly, since I wasn't expecting her to come out, so I gently elbowed the door shut and dimmed the light, reaching out to see if she'd let me touch her. Imagine my surprise when she started rubbing my hand and rolled over and let me pet her belly! I peered into those gorgeous green eyes and fell in love.
Her time here was relatively short, but her progress astounded me. She mingled with the general population at mealtime, lounged about during broad daylight and never ran away from me when I approached her. She waited in the hallway when I brushed my teeth in the evening and was quick to jump into bed at night and lay on one of our chests, nursing on our shirts, as she'd done during her many years at Sam's place. Of course, I whispered sweet nothings into my lover's ear, with phrases like "You're so pretty" and "Hello, pretty girl" to sooth her fears.
But life had other plans. Acute renal failure meant that her kidneys weren't filtering the toxins from her body and our vet's efforts to jumpstart them failed. We kept a hopeful eye on her for the past few days and decided to let her go this morning. Seeing a sweet, confused creature like that slip away before your eyes is a heartbreaking experience that I will never get used to. Sam is handling it pretty well, but this loss, combined with the loss of Little Ginge in early March is just heartbreaking.
Rest now, my pretty girl, until we meet again.
