The Beginning
I adopted her from the local animal shelter when she was about 6 months old. According to the shelter director, she had been abandoned in an apartment for 3 days when the maintenance man found her. This young calico knew that people were the key to her survival and she reached out and grabbed one … literally.
At the shelter, I had my eye on a beautiful white long hair who was not trusting of humans to say the least. I kept trying to win over this finicky feline and I felt my shirt being pulled. I thought I hung a string on the cage next to me and reached down to clear my shirt from the wires when I saw a paw with claws hanging on to my shirt for dear life. I looked at her in the eyes (I knew this was a female because MOST calicos are female) and told the shelter volunteer to open the cage. I wanted to see what this cat would do. The volunteer barely released the spring clasp and the cat butted the door with her head and jumped into my arms. That was all it took for me to be convinced.
Through the Years
Cricket (who was already named at adoption) brought joy and laughter to many people during her years on earth. She also brought the detriment to many mice. I could tell some stories but most people don’t want to know the details. Suffice it to say that like most felines, Cricket shared her kill with the family … always the head! And it was usually in my bed – yep, lucky me.
As she aged I thought about her loyalty to me and always wanted to make sure she was comfortable as she aged. She retired from her role as a mouser and eased into the job of just being a pet. This cat was soooo spoiled. She liked fresh water, so fresh that it had to come directly from the faucet into her mouth. That’s right. She jumped on the counter and waited for the water to begin its drip. She would put her two front feet in the sink, tilt her head and unleash her tongue.
Unusually colored, having a straight line down the middle of her face and including her nose, her personality was just as unusual. She loved the smell of mint so much that she would get in my face and put her nose directly on my lips after I brushed my teeth. She also pulled gum and mints out of my purse and would rub her face all over the packaging.
For some unknown reason, Cricket was also an emotional eater. When she would get upset, she would run to her bowl and chow down. Then when she could see the bottom of the bowl, she would get upset and cry until I put more in or, in many cases, would move the food around to cover the empty spot and she would be happy.
The social cat that she was, during the time I shared a house with my cousin, Cricket had to be introduced to any and all visitors. If I didn’t mention her or Dawn didn’t introduce her to our guests, Cricket would yowl until she got attention.
Don’t get me wrong, Cricket definitely had cattitude too. Often there was no making her happy and when she was like that it was best to let her have the right of way. She wasn’t vicious and didn’t usually bite or scratch people…except for Dawn who enjoyed picking on her just as much as me! Despite that, people were always afraid of Cricket and she has always loved people, not cats or dogs but people yes … and not kids, only adults!
Near the End
Like I mentioned earlier, I always wanted her to be comfortable at the end and to know she was loved. But I realized that was more to placate me than herself. When her body began to shut down the Cricket I knew and loved was gone and her feline instincts took over. She tried to go outside and run off, but that didn’t work. Then she tried to hide in the house. I kept finding her and bringing her to a place where I could watch over her but she would stumble away. I knew the end was near and I couldn’t do anything. She began going downhill on Friday night and there was no way I could afford a veterinarian after hours. I don’t think I could afford one during regular business hours. The only option I had was to let her suffer over the weekend and see what Monday morning brought us. My husband offered to take her to the back yard and put her down with a gun but I didn’t want him to do that. He said he didn’t want to do that but would if I asked him to. No, there’s no way I could ask him to do that.
The End
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| Durango the Aussie |
As she stretched out her feet showing the velvet soft skin of her indoor-only paws, I rubbed her back and she let out an “ack”. I touched her head, told her I loved her and she would always be my Silly Cat – a version of Smelly Cat from Friends. I know she couldn’t understand what was happening but she looked at me almost knowingly and gently mewed as if to say “It’s ok.” She “ack”ed again, her body shook and then was very still. The tears were already gone from my eyes because I was ok with her dying but didn’t want to see her suffer. She lived a long life and was treated very well. As I write the final words more tears surge in her memory. My dog, a new addition to our family, stands to comfort me. Thank you Durango.
