Grieving in the Northwest

It's been five days of grieving~my Velvet Loveloaf, Ella Kitty, forever in a Golden Slumber...emotions come in waves paired with an emptiness that weighs heavily on my heart. I am sad, but grateful; lonely, yet surrounded by love; and blessed to have had a family with such a gentle, delicate, loving, nurturing, empathetic and sensitive life meowing with & at me since July 2002.

" 'But what is human love like?' [Kittens will ask]. All I can tell you is that it is something they feel, and when they hold you in their arms or you are lying in their laps and they begin to stroke you gently, it flows from them into you and then you feel it...but every so often, in their need to give love as well as receive it, they will...half squeeze you to death. Something will come into their eyes; the touch of their hands will change; and then willy-nilly you will begin to purr and your claws will work in and out as they did when you were kittens...and therefore happy."

"The Silent Miaow"
~Paul Gallico

LOVE LETTERS...

Dr. Lance Campbell & Staff,
Thank you so much for providing the caring, loving, professional & sympathetic (did I mention exceptional?) support I needed last week. Ella & I have been truly blessed to have you all in our lives. Thank you also for always reminding me of how my care affected her health & nature; compliments “mommies” never hear enough. I thought you might be interested in reading my first publication from “Memoirs of the Velvet Loveloaf:”

January 8, 2010

Yesterday I had to accept and prepare for the possible untimely death of my beloved cat, and last night, I made the decision to let Ella go.

Upon my return home Monday, she seemed her willful-jaunty-mieowy self, although her special Tiki-Cat Tuna dinner didn't agree with her. We snuggled together all night & she purred the entire time.

Tuesday Ella was low-energy and less communicative. I was sure if she had eaten, it wasn't much. I began wondering if her new idea of getting "fresh" water from the toilet bowl was really such a brilliant idea. I also considered the chance that somehow my cat developed an allergy to canned fish, or that she was having a botcholistic experience (we've been watching quite a bit of "House" lately). At any rate, she was drinking water and spent part of the evening napping with me, albeit a restless night.

Wednesday she began displaying signs of dementia, lost in thought and action at times; crying for help and attention (more so than usual, with a peculiar tonal quality to her meow). Apparently she wasn't eating, and she was having difficulty holding down water. Unsteady when holding still, she measured her leaps with careful calculations and was near-successful in hiding her insecurities, especially those of managing the accuracy of her timing to the litter box. She spent all night in our chair--I think mostly gazing off into the 4th dimension.

Thursday morning brought intuitive thoughts of perhaps calling her vet and quizzing him about dehydration and amnesia in cats (after attempting to self-diagnose her from internet websites). After a few more disorienting spells, (now) loose bowels and near-dry-heaves and I was able to get her in within the hour to be diagnosed. Ella's only noticeable ailment was a strange "hardness" near her upper abdomen. I didn't expect to have to leave her at the office for an x-ray, but Dr. Lance and I agreed it seemed the best idea as the rest of her checked out pretty well-considering her age (13+year estimate). We knew now she was suffering, but from what was unclear.

Ella spent the day in a posh kennel at the College Way Vet Clinic with their extremely friendly, capable and understanding staff. A few hours later, the call came with the results of her x-ray. An unexplainable mass clearly resting on, near, or in several vital organs was evident. My options were clearly laid out. I would call back with my decision to put her through an inconclusive biopsy, or put her under for surgery, & possibly a serene, humane death. My fears of economic insecurity were addressed, and waned. Clearly, I couldn't put a price on the opportunity for even one more day of love and affection from Fuzzy-Face.

Before I knew it, the time had come to sign the authorization forms for euthanasia, if necessary, and talk with my Velvet Loveloaf. We discussed the possibilities & impossibilities, the past & the future, and how deeply we'd touched each other's hearts...we hoped & prayed, petted & purred; fully present in our love for each other.

An hour later, Dr. Lance confirmed the presence of a virtually inoperable mass. An aggressively cancerous tumor was overtaking her liver and spleen, and now was encroaching on her stomach. How my cat found the strength to sustain her love-of-life through this last year, let-alone hold out until my return from holiday, is nothing short of miraculous. I had to believe our serenity lay in my decision to accept what I could not change; and I quietly said good-bye to Ella.

"The conclusion toward which I am leaning is that in all probability the majority of cat people, deep down, have a sneaking and half-recognized suspicion that they have been taken over by their feline...and that to a considerable extent she has imposed her whims and wishes upon the household. One hopes, then, that to have it thus confirmed will do more than stir that sense of humor without which no one can really enjoy the company of cats and simply substantiate the gentle tyranny to which they have already voluntarily submitted."

"The Silent Miaow"
~Paul Gallico

My sweet cat, may GOD bless you and keep you, may the Sun's face shine down upon you, may the Universe look upon you in favor and grant you peace. Amen
xo
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