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Goodbye, little girl...
14 years ago
General
Today, I put my cat to sleep. She was 18 years old and dying of cancer, more tumor than cat, but she fought it until she couldn't anymore. Her name was Selina Kyle Ornellas-Lee, a big name for the little tabby runt of her litter, and she lived up to that big name. She was an Easter gift I gave to my ex-wife back when we were first dating, the runt of the litter because Tia lived with her sister and niece in a tiny one-bedroom apartment at the time, and they already had a cat (the sweet but very ironically named "Frisky," who was more ottoman than cat), so I figured a small cat would take up less space. Selina narrowly avoided being called "Sarabi" or "Nala" by said niece, who only relented when I explained that it was Catwoman's real name; my ex was the one who extended it to a full name, particularly when she'd get mad at Selina (we also had to explain several times through the years that she wasn't named after "Selena, " the popular singer who died around that time). Of course, while my ex was her official owner, even after the divorce everyone knew she was really my cat, especially Selina herself.
From the word "Go," she was an odd one. I know EVERYBODY talks about how human their pet is, but it wasn't an act with Selina: she actually tried to act like a human. She would hold conversations with people, even over the phone. She would drink from cups whenever possible, to the point that we couldn't leave any glasses out or else she'd knock them over trying to pick them up in her paws; she much preferred coffee mugs, where she could loop her paw in the handle and pull it towards her to drink, actually trying to lift it to her lips. And she HATED cats. OK, maybe a bit of an exaggeration; she TOLERATED cats, but whenever a new one was brought into her territory, she would throw up, hide from it, and then spend the next few hours yelling at my ex and I when the coast was clear. She was also an acrobat in her youth, somersaulting up to chest height on me trying to get at cat toys (the ONE element of her feline identity that she enjoyed completely), and her hiding places from other cats were often in places that we'd been convinced no one could ever get near. She also never wanted a cat bed; her sleeping place was the pillow next to me and Tia and we'd better be willing to accept that because THAT was the way she rolled.
Yeah, I know it sounds like she was a pill; I prefer the term "tsundere."
She grew to accept the other cats, and our second cat when we got our own place, a black Siamese mix named Morgan, became her best friend despite RELENTLESSLY teasing her; it was fairly common to hear Selina loudly yelling at her as she was pinned and groomed by her. When Morgan died a year after my ex and I split, Selina didn't leave Morgan's cat bed for a week.
The past few years, Selina definitely slowed down, spending most of her time asleep on my ex's or my son's bed or, when she was too arthritic to climb up there, in the bed made for her over by the dining room table.Seven months ago, she was diagnosed with cancer, but even the vet was amazed at how active she still tried to be and how, despite obviously being in pain, she was always sweet and talkative, even after she lost her voice. She would always come out to say hello to me whenever I came over to pick up Ryan, though, and when she couldn't anymore, I'd go see her and she'd always purr and rub her cheek against my hand.
I held her when the doctor gave her the sedative to put her to sleep, and before she went under the last time, she started purring again. SHe gave a long sigh, and she was gone.
She was the first real pet I ever had...I had a couple of hamsters, and there were dogs growing up, but Selina was the first who actually wanted to be with me, who never ran away or bit or ever acted like she would leave the instant I turned my back. She loved me as much as any creature could love someone like me, and I will miss her dearly. I know Morgan's waiting for her, ready to pin her down and force her to get a bath, but somehow I don't think Selina will mind as much anymore.
Goodbye, my little girl.
From the word "Go," she was an odd one. I know EVERYBODY talks about how human their pet is, but it wasn't an act with Selina: she actually tried to act like a human. She would hold conversations with people, even over the phone. She would drink from cups whenever possible, to the point that we couldn't leave any glasses out or else she'd knock them over trying to pick them up in her paws; she much preferred coffee mugs, where she could loop her paw in the handle and pull it towards her to drink, actually trying to lift it to her lips. And she HATED cats. OK, maybe a bit of an exaggeration; she TOLERATED cats, but whenever a new one was brought into her territory, she would throw up, hide from it, and then spend the next few hours yelling at my ex and I when the coast was clear. She was also an acrobat in her youth, somersaulting up to chest height on me trying to get at cat toys (the ONE element of her feline identity that she enjoyed completely), and her hiding places from other cats were often in places that we'd been convinced no one could ever get near. She also never wanted a cat bed; her sleeping place was the pillow next to me and Tia and we'd better be willing to accept that because THAT was the way she rolled.
Yeah, I know it sounds like she was a pill; I prefer the term "tsundere."
She grew to accept the other cats, and our second cat when we got our own place, a black Siamese mix named Morgan, became her best friend despite RELENTLESSLY teasing her; it was fairly common to hear Selina loudly yelling at her as she was pinned and groomed by her. When Morgan died a year after my ex and I split, Selina didn't leave Morgan's cat bed for a week.
The past few years, Selina definitely slowed down, spending most of her time asleep on my ex's or my son's bed or, when she was too arthritic to climb up there, in the bed made for her over by the dining room table.Seven months ago, she was diagnosed with cancer, but even the vet was amazed at how active she still tried to be and how, despite obviously being in pain, she was always sweet and talkative, even after she lost her voice. She would always come out to say hello to me whenever I came over to pick up Ryan, though, and when she couldn't anymore, I'd go see her and she'd always purr and rub her cheek against my hand.
I held her when the doctor gave her the sedative to put her to sleep, and before she went under the last time, she started purring again. SHe gave a long sigh, and she was gone.
She was the first real pet I ever had...I had a couple of hamsters, and there were dogs growing up, but Selina was the first who actually wanted to be with me, who never ran away or bit or ever acted like she would leave the instant I turned my back. She loved me as much as any creature could love someone like me, and I will miss her dearly. I know Morgan's waiting for her, ready to pin her down and force her to get a bath, but somehow I don't think Selina will mind as much anymore.
Goodbye, my little girl.
It's always hard when they go. Make the best when they're with you, for their sake. They don't ask for too much, but they can give back a great deal of comfort and love.
R.I.P.
It much better that she's not suffering anymore. Cancer is hell for anyone, much less a cat.