I recently had to take the big decision to put our 12 year old cat to sleep. Which, I've discovered, has left her constant companion son, a year younger, in a very lonely state and I've been having to contend with a cat who normally kept his distance, now sitting on my feet any chance he gets and running to be near me, most of the time I'm around the house. We took Stinkerbelle to the vet one evening, said good-bye, tears streaming down our faces, then drove home and dug a hole in the front garden, in the dark. I'm holding the flashlight and Dave is digging and I said "if anyone were to see us, they'd think we were digging a grave" and he said "we are!" We've had many different animals through the years but this was our first time of having to turn to the Good Death, which is what Euthanasia means.
So my mind has been full of the antics and personality quirks this cat has entertained and exasperated us with throughout the years (always lived up to her name, for example) and then I remember the series of calamities we had with her shortly after she joined us.
We basically live in a farm yard and when we first arrived, there were a lot of feral cats skulking around the place. We found that they'd hover nearby, hoping to be fed but never wanting actual contact with us or to come into the house. Then one summer there was an exception to this rule as a beautiful, fluffy little kitten showed up and stuck determinedly near the back door, venturing into the house if the door was left open. So we fed her in the house and she let us pick her up for a cuddle and showed no interest in heading back outside. She remained a house cat and never was interested in being stuck outdoors - she knew her origins and wanted to get as far from that as she could. To give an idea of how many cats I could compare her behaviour with I stopped feeding the 'strays' the day I came home and found 15 cats sitting across the driveway waiting for me. None of them would come closer than five feet though and none would dare venture into the house.
After a few months of domesticity with our friendly little kitten, I knew we needed to take her to a vet. At the time, I was working in Newton-le-Willows, which was 20 miles away, so I thought it would be more convenient to take her to a vet there, rather than closer to where we lived. I'd had a bad experience with a more local vet some years before and was needing to find a new one anyway. I didn't even have the idea yet, of getting a cat carrier and didn't think it necessary as she was such a sweet little thing. I made an appointment with a vet and co-opted my 8 year old child out of school to at least hold the kitten and off we went. Rather quickly, the kitten got panicky and squirmy and Anne-Marie was able to barely manage to hang on to her. We arrived at the vet after what felt like a very long time and then were made to wait at least 20 minutes in the waiting room. It was about this time that the kitten was so panic stricken that she started having diarrhea attacks and pretty soon both Anne-Marie and I were covered in this as we were passing her back and forth in our increasing dismay and inability to figure out what to do. (yes, I realise I'm not looking very good here by now, on several levels). We finally got called into the vet and managed to leave some poo streams in there as well. He checked her over and said she would need to get an eye infection treated before she could be vaccinated and sent us on our way without getting what we'd come for. The kitten was frantic and by now, so was I - starting to wonder how I'd manage the long trek home. After getting in the car, I put Anne-Marie in the back seat with her after which she made an extraordinary lunge and disappeared into the back of the station wagon that I had at the time. This happened to be full of flattened cardboard boxes from the shop, waiting to be taken to the recycling center. Stinkerbelle cowered in one cubby hole she found, where Anne-Marie could at least see her and I decided that was probably the best place and proceeded to drive very slowly home. Again, it took another eternity (we are up to three of those now, just in this one occasion). We were finally only 10 minutes away from home, end goal in sight, when we reached a traffic calming point where you have to weave around a blockage in the road which has narrowed it down to one lane, taking turns with oncoming traffic. I happened to be between two big lorries and we had been able to set off from a full stop, were only up to about 10 mph when the truck in front of me slammed on his brakes. I managed to stop as well but the big truck behind me did not and in slow motion, gently but thoroughly smashed the back of my car in. If it had been another car, it wouldn't have done much damage but because the truck was so large - there was no hope. The cat disappeared, screams were heard - probably from my daughter, maybe from me. I jumped out to deal with the very apologetic young man who was horrified - and the fault of the whole incident - the lorry in front of me who had slammed on his brakes, drove on oblivious. We quickly exchanged details and my car still being drive-able, we continued on, even more gingerly than before and finally, half an hour later, we arrived home. After pulling all the cardboard out we found our completely traumatised kitty and carrying her into the house, further imposed more trauma on her by giving her a bath before stripping ourselves, showering and changing. I got Anne-Marie to school only 4 hours late. The kitten escaped back out of the house later that day and disappeared for four more, obviously having a serious think about whether she wanted anything to do with people again.
When she came back, she was not the same, being much more fearful, skittish and less inclined to a cuddle. This lasted for at least another year before I discovered flower remedies - like Rescue Remedy - made especially for animals and one was to help recover and soothe from trauma. This helped her to re-adjust and she resumed being a happy cat again. And I went out and bought a cat carrier. And lined it with a soft blanky. And found a local vet who we stayed with until the end. They even sent a condolence card after her passing, which I found incredibly sweet and thoughtful.
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