May 29: Goodbye, Tabitha, and thank you

Tabitha appeared in 1997 in Morrisville, a little black & white tuxedo cat, about 8-9 months old.  She started following Roxy and her son around as they went trick-or-treating on Halloween, by the end of the night it was clear she didn't have a home.  J.J. desperately wanted to keep her, but the landlord firmly said no.  I was in Greece at the time, but Roxy remembered I'd said that my beloved Raleigh (Sir Walter, because every woman needs at least one gentleman in her life! SWR for short) needed a companion.  She was a sweet little thing, friendly, and immediately took to me.  In addition to Little Black Cloud my other nickname was Samantha, as in the witch who twitched her nose.  So, appearing on Halloween, this kitty's name clearly had to be her daughter, Tabitha.

SWR and I were in a small, dark, one bedroom apartment across from the hospital I was working at as a P.A.  He needed the company as I worked 5 days a week there, then to the Squad for either 2 twelve hour shifts or a 24 hour shift every weekend, paying off school loans and saving money to buy a house.  I promised them both there would be lots of sunbeams someday. 

In the meantime we had a routine.  As wonderful as Raleigh was he never slept with me, not until a few years later when he got sick.  Tabitha, however, immediately established herself as a champion lap cat, and the world's best bed cat.  She slept alongside me, and I would stroke her fur as I fell asleep, and she was always there when I woke in the mornings, and I'd stroke her as I adjusted to waking up.  She wasn't always there when I got up in the middle of the night, but she was back in place for the morning. 

We moved to the end unit townhouse in 2000.  On a rare day at home early on I noticed SWR & Tabitha moving to different places, and within minutes there would be a sunbeam.  They had rapidly figured out the pattern as the day passed and fully enjoyed sunning themselves. 

I needed sinus surgery, had problems with the anesthesia, no one knew about my heart then.  Despite the problems, they sent me home the same day.  Tabitha & SWR stayed with me every second.  In the early morning hours I sickened, and, still with anesthesia in my system, barely got to my bathroom before repeatedly vomiting, close to passing out.  Tabitha was right next to me, and Raleigh appeared in the doorway.   Tabitha turned to him and gave three loud, commanding meows, and Raleigh disappeared, going to my sleeping mother and waking her up. I swear Taitha said 'Go get the other human, our's needs help.'  She stayed by my side constantly through that recovery and the next sinus surgery, leaving me only to go and tell my mother if she thought I needed attention.  She was my fuzzy nurse, it was unbelievable how attuned to me she was.

Tabitha was a talker, entire conversations, with her distinctive little 'rrrwwwrr'.  She always came to greet me when I got home, once settled on my lap would deeply purr.  She didn't really do anything else: she didn't want to play with me or Raleigh, wasn't all that curious, had no interest in going outside.  She was content to be with me.

SWR developed lymphoma, and another kitten appeared in Morrisville, and so Chester came to live with us (actually the Earl of Leicester, to replace SWR).  Tabitha was NOT happy.  She wanted to be an only kitty.  She was not nice to the kitten, and he remembered that when he got older and bigger. 

SWR passed after a couple years (he was the fuzzy love of my life--such a fabulous kitty), and within a week another kitten who needed a home appeared, Zerla joined us.  Tabitha was again not happy.  She wanted to be an only.  She loved it when my Mom came to stay, because Mom wasn't always jumping up  to do something and seemed to prefer her quietness to the racing around the two younger ones did. 

And then I went into heart failure.....  Through all the surgeries my three kitties (and then four when I adopted KC to be Chester's playmate) took care of me, clustering around me and loving me.  With my being alone they were even more important, as sometimes I didn't see anyone for days at a time, especially after moving to Pville so soon before the third heart surgery.  Tabitha was with me through it all, giving her fuzzy support and love, always on my lap during the day and sleeping beside me at night.

One day in 2011 I came home from work and knew immediately something had changed.  I'll never know what transpired, but Tabitha had clearly lost her rank as dominant female.  All three of them, including mild-mannered Zerla, were picking on her.  I was beside myself, and didn't know what to do.  Tabitha started urinating while lying in bed next to me, we think because she was being bullied when she would try to get to the litter box.  And then, within just a couple weeks of this starting,  I broke my foot for the second time.  I was in terrific pain, with unstable fractures and a poor surgical candidate, and then having to change sheets in the middle of the night, even with pads on the bed.  When my mother asked what she could do I begged her to take Tabitha, because I couldn't risk being on my foot and no one else would take her. 

Mom took her, thinking it was temporary.  I missed her terribly, but was hoping Tabitha could stay there and finally be an only kitty.  For months Mom kept asking when I would take her back until finally I convinced her that Tabitha should stay.  She was the perfect cat for Mom, never did anything wrong, never had any incidents outside of her litter box, happily sunned herself, very low maintenance.  Mom admitted she was a terrific companion, much better than her prior cat.  So, Tabitha finally got her wish to be an only kitty.

None of  the other three are lap cats, except Chester will in the winter, and he sleeps on me, not beside me, which can make it difficult to get out of bed, although I love having him there.  I missed Tabitha, but she made it very clear that she did NOT miss me.  For over a year she would run and hide when I came to Mom's apartment, over the years consistently looking at me with barely concealed fear, not wanting to give up her solitary status.  She would warm to me when I clipped her toenails, or brushed her to get the mats out that Mom's fingers no longer allow her to do.  But she remained wary overall towards me.  It hurt my feelings, but it made me so happy that she and Mom were together.

She started losing weight about 2 years ago, going from her 10-11pound self down to about 7-8.  The vet, who comes to the retirement center in her van, said she had cancer of some sort, but we all agreed that in a 16 year old cat it would be cruel  to put her through testing.  She was doing so well for so long we figured the vet was wrong.  She lost more weight, down to about 6 pounds in the last few months, but was otherwise her usual self. 

Last Sunday when I went over she was almost her old loving way with me, rubbing against me and purring.  For the last year she seemed uncomfortable if picked up, we figured the cancer was affecting her abdomen, but she could still jump up on Mom's lap and get to her favorite perches.

Yesterday Mom called me and said something had happened overnight and Tabitha was clearly very sick.  She tried jumping to her usual places, but would fall back and not be able to move.  She staggered to the water bowl and then stared at it.  She tried to jump from the couch to her favorite place on the sideboard, but fell back.  Mom moved everything off the couch and Tabitha just stayed there, not moving but still conscious, for hours.  Mom and I agreed this was clearly the end, and the vet was called with her earliest availability being 5:30 pm.

I got there just before 4:00, and went straight to Tabitha, lying on the couch.  She tried to sit up, was too weak, but gave me her old 'mmrrrpp' greeting for the first time in years, looking up at me and weakly purring.   I sat on the floor beside the couch, putting me at eye level with her, and it was if the last 3 1/2 years hadn't  ever happened.  I scratched her chin and petted her while she laid her head on my other hand, her purr was barely audible, but I could feel it in her throat as I stroked her.  Mom was stunned, seeing her respond to me this way after being so distant to me the last few years.  But I knew the second I saw her that she understood it was goodbye, and that what mattered was the love we had shared in our 14 years together.  It was incredibly intense, as if all that love was compacted into those last couple hours.  I talked with her, and sent her mental images of happy times together, and she rubbed and nuzzled my hands over and over.  Several times she looked long and deeply into my eyes, something she had never done before, and I knew she was telling me she loved me.  Mom left to get her dinner, I was so happy that Tabitha and I had that time to be alone together, just the two of us.

She tried to sit up several times, and was either too weak or her stomach was too painful for her to do so.   She would stretch all her limbs, then lay back again, seeking my hand to lay her head down on every time.   Mom had been too scared to touch her, had been sitting in her chair while Tabitha stayed on the couch, but  going over to pet her frequently.  But seeing how she was with me Mom realized that one of us should be touching her at all times, even if we didn't move her.

The vet and her assistant came just before 6:00, gave us the options, and I chose the shot in the abdomen that would take a few minutes to work, rather than trying to find a vein in her poor dehydrated body.  It also meant that she could be on the couch with Mom and me when she passed.  It was very fast, quicker than the vet was expecting.  Tabitha went to sleep and then stopped breathing while lying on the couch between the two people she had loved the most, with both of us touching and petting her, talking to her and letting her know how loved she was. 

Honestly, I don't think there could have been a better death.  We all got to say goodbye, and she eased out of this world in comfort and with love.  If only everyone, human and animal, could die that way.....

I am so incredibly grateful for her steady and constant love over so many years.  Eighteen years is a long time with a lot of changes.  And for over 14 of them she was my dependable loving companion through the worst times of my life, over and over.  She knew how to comfort me, when to move and when to stay.  She was with me day in and day out, along with my other kitties, with me more than any human.  She loved all the time with me on the couch, it almost made me feel guilty each time when I went back to work.  And then she transferred that love to Mom, greeting her in the morning and when she came back to the apartment, keeping her company, being a lap kitty and loving companion.  Mom became more attached to her than she had with her own cat.

So, Tabitha, thank you.  Thank you for being with me through three moves.  Thank you for keeping Raleigh company during my seven day work weeks.  Thank you for taking care of me when I was sick.  Thank you for your love through all the tough times.  Thank you for being on my lap so often.  Thank you for being the best bed cat ever, the countless nights and mornings that your fur was the last and first thing I touched every day.  Thank you for being my Mom's kitty, giving her your unconditional love, these last few years.  And thank you so very much for those last couple of hours, for letting me know how much you loved me.

I'll see you, some day, at the Rainbow Bridge.  Until then, keep Raleigh company. 

Thanks for reading.  I needed to get all this out.    Laurie