RIP Andromache "Mache" Kitty February (?) 1999- February 5 2014
Their original humans abando ed them in a particularly cold winter to starve. Dhe and Hector curled up in a box on a friend's patio to die. We took them in and I gav e them striong names because they'd had a hard life for creatures only a year old. They were sick and riddled with parasites. Mache's lungs were always a little weak being damaged by infection as an adolescent. Hector was close enough to blind thAat he routinely ran into walls he couldn't see. We got them medical care. We fed them and fed them. They had a lot of behavioral problems. Hector is eternally anxious and still has the occational panic attack all these years later.
Mache was angry. She reminded me of some of the abused kids at work. She loved the pettins and the food, but she couldn't trust us to keep her and her boy safe. She was very protective of Hector. She spent the first two years throwing tantrums and fighting me for dominence. She was Skye's cat really, the way Hector was mine. he was always so tired from woorking two jobs. he'd lie down on the sofa and stretch out on his chest and he'd pet her until they both fell asleep, his hand still on her, arrested in mid stroke. It never occurred to me she would out live him.
Over time, she figured it out: That there would always be kibble in the bowl. That the few rules we had all made sense. It took a whole lot longer for her to learn the really important things: That they were really finally safe. That wherever I go, there they would be. That even when I did something she didn't like or understand, it was generally for their benefit. She came to love me as if she'd always been my baby girl. The moment she really understood she was safe, she just relaxed. That knot of anger and stress and fear that I thought would always be inside her melted away. She became the sweetest most mellow, most low drama, most loving companion I could imagine.
She was such a brave little thing. She took on vacuums and lawn mowers if they were in her turf. She was generally friendly and charming with vets, but when I took them at the same time, she'd stand in front of Hector and try to fight them off, because if they were scaring him, they were the enemy.
When she was small, we'd spend hours playing string. She was very bright, so I had to be fast. I'd take a mouse on the string and get her chasing it around my body, making sudden changes and reversals to keep her on her toes. She got arthritis very young and I took to setting up spots near my work spaces that I could lift her onto if she wasn't up to jumping. I came to think of her as my copilot, always next to me soaking up the pettins or napping happily, her snore a soothing background as I typed, or a gentle presence in the dark before I slept.
She was the first to figure out they really were allowed to use the whole bed and not just the bottom. She was the first to figure out it was safe to press up next to me for pettins while I read in bed. The first of the two of them to learn she could sleep on top of me. (It took years of trust building. We suspect their original asshole humans wouldn't let them above the foot when the humans were sleeping as they were scared to try it with us). I have carried her weight into my dreams countless times, and love waking with my arm curled around her or her curled up by my pillow.
Last Saturday, she stopped being able to eat solids, though she tried for me so valiantly. I started giving her just the gravy from the wettest goosh I could find, and she kept trying and it took a couple hours, but she did drink her gravy. You could see the external part of the tumor was bigger every day, sand every day, she drank less protein. By Monday, she mostly slept, coming out for short patrols, but she was done, I could see that. She hurt and she was hungry. Last night I stayed up late and we had one of the longest and best pettins we'd had since things got acute, but eventually she had to sleep and so did I. When I came to crate her for the SPCA, she perked up and leaned into my hands for pettins. She was so good on the trip. I gave her my fingers at the stop lights to cuddle like I always do. The room where they put us looked like another vet to her, and she did what she always does: try to look out the window and make friends with the vets. The sedative took longer than they expected. She's always been a fighter and always excited to explore a new place. I petted her and petted her. It took them three tries to find a good vein. She barely managed a few licks of gravy, the visible part of the tumor suggesting that the whole mass was larger than a kiwi. She trusted me and the vets always helped before when she was very sick. I will never forget her lying there, her amber eyes wide and her tongue out like it generally was for a pettin, but her not there any more.
I'm not sure hector's figured it out yet. he saw me take her in the carrier, so checked it first thing when I brought it back. no girl. he periodically checks her likely spots, but she was a good hider when she wanted to be left alone and her illness has made her reclusive. he's been hanging close, but he has since the move, since moves make him anxious. I am worried how he will take being without her. He's generally handled even short separations very badly.
I miss her so much already. It was so weird having her carrier in the car without her in it, waiting patiently to see what the next adventure would be.
Pictures: http://gwydionmisha.tumblr.com/post/75775919799/i-miss-you-already-baby-girl
This entry was originally posted at http://gwydion.dreamwidth.org/400462.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Mache was angry. She reminded me of some of the abused kids at work. She loved the pettins and the food, but she couldn't trust us to keep her and her boy safe. She was very protective of Hector. She spent the first two years throwing tantrums and fighting me for dominence. She was Skye's cat really, the way Hector was mine. he was always so tired from woorking two jobs. he'd lie down on the sofa and stretch out on his chest and he'd pet her until they both fell asleep, his hand still on her, arrested in mid stroke. It never occurred to me she would out live him.
Over time, she figured it out: That there would always be kibble in the bowl. That the few rules we had all made sense. It took a whole lot longer for her to learn the really important things: That they were really finally safe. That wherever I go, there they would be. That even when I did something she didn't like or understand, it was generally for their benefit. She came to love me as if she'd always been my baby girl. The moment she really understood she was safe, she just relaxed. That knot of anger and stress and fear that I thought would always be inside her melted away. She became the sweetest most mellow, most low drama, most loving companion I could imagine.
She was such a brave little thing. She took on vacuums and lawn mowers if they were in her turf. She was generally friendly and charming with vets, but when I took them at the same time, she'd stand in front of Hector and try to fight them off, because if they were scaring him, they were the enemy.
When she was small, we'd spend hours playing string. She was very bright, so I had to be fast. I'd take a mouse on the string and get her chasing it around my body, making sudden changes and reversals to keep her on her toes. She got arthritis very young and I took to setting up spots near my work spaces that I could lift her onto if she wasn't up to jumping. I came to think of her as my copilot, always next to me soaking up the pettins or napping happily, her snore a soothing background as I typed, or a gentle presence in the dark before I slept.
She was the first to figure out they really were allowed to use the whole bed and not just the bottom. She was the first to figure out it was safe to press up next to me for pettins while I read in bed. The first of the two of them to learn she could sleep on top of me. (It took years of trust building. We suspect their original asshole humans wouldn't let them above the foot when the humans were sleeping as they were scared to try it with us). I have carried her weight into my dreams countless times, and love waking with my arm curled around her or her curled up by my pillow.
Last Saturday, she stopped being able to eat solids, though she tried for me so valiantly. I started giving her just the gravy from the wettest goosh I could find, and she kept trying and it took a couple hours, but she did drink her gravy. You could see the external part of the tumor was bigger every day, sand every day, she drank less protein. By Monday, she mostly slept, coming out for short patrols, but she was done, I could see that. She hurt and she was hungry. Last night I stayed up late and we had one of the longest and best pettins we'd had since things got acute, but eventually she had to sleep and so did I. When I came to crate her for the SPCA, she perked up and leaned into my hands for pettins. She was so good on the trip. I gave her my fingers at the stop lights to cuddle like I always do. The room where they put us looked like another vet to her, and she did what she always does: try to look out the window and make friends with the vets. The sedative took longer than they expected. She's always been a fighter and always excited to explore a new place. I petted her and petted her. It took them three tries to find a good vein. She barely managed a few licks of gravy, the visible part of the tumor suggesting that the whole mass was larger than a kiwi. She trusted me and the vets always helped before when she was very sick. I will never forget her lying there, her amber eyes wide and her tongue out like it generally was for a pettin, but her not there any more.
I'm not sure hector's figured it out yet. he saw me take her in the carrier, so checked it first thing when I brought it back. no girl. he periodically checks her likely spots, but she was a good hider when she wanted to be left alone and her illness has made her reclusive. he's been hanging close, but he has since the move, since moves make him anxious. I am worried how he will take being without her. He's generally handled even short separations very badly.
I miss her so much already. It was so weird having her carrier in the car without her in it, waiting patiently to see what the next adventure would be.
Pictures: http://gwydionmisha.tumblr.com/post/75775919799/i-miss-you-already-baby-girl
This entry was originally posted at http://gwydion.dreamwidth.org/400462.html. Please comment there using OpenID.