In Memoriam - Part III
- In Memoriam
- In Memoriam - Part II
- In Memoriam - Part III
- In Memoriam - Part IV
- In Memorium - Part V, The End
Daisy, not wanting anything to do with those disgusting kittens that seemed to want everything to do with her, said the Others had to go. Little Buddy had not even gained the strength to jump well and The Skipper only wanted a little love. Daisy made it clear to them that she did not want them there in HER barn. She hissed at them any and every chance she got. If Daisy walked into the room where the kittens were, she hissed and they purred. She never showed her claws or bit them. She only spoke rudely and in great discussed. As cats do, Daisy would wash her face - lick the paw, wash the face, lick the paw, wash the face, et cetera. Now, Little Buddy and The Skipper decided that what Daisy did was rather interesting and they began to copy her, only from at least two or three feet away. She would look at them out of the corner of her eye, turn away and continue the grooming process. This went on for many days. One day she got caught in the act - one of her paws was on Skipper, holding him down as he cried and screamed incessantly and the fearful noises called me to hide behind the door and watch. What did I see?
Daisy holding down that kitten she seemed t ohate so terribly much and giving him the first good bath of his life and he hated it! She cleaned him from top to bottom, yes, to bottom until he understood the process. He got it - good. Daisy then chased down Little Buddy and did the same to him. When I walked into the room - she acted so surprised, hissed terribly at the two and turned away from them walking to her throne. In time they all became quite inseparable and best of friends. She put up with those kittens and raised them well. It wasn’t many more months later when she had to learn to put up with a wee babe again, this time, human. She did pretty good. If Baby M cried she let me know. Not that I didn’t already know in that tiny little place, but she kept the kittens in line and away from the baby and tried to tell me how to mother. As the years passed Daisy had to put up with a great many additions in her life: those two kittens, a child, a dog, another child, another cat, two more children, two more dogs, another child. Daisy and the children did well together through the years. She allowed those children to pull her tail, ears, whickers, use her for a pillow, carry her like a wet noodle, all the while never complaining. Only once did I witness her getting miffed at a child (it wasn’t ours) and her response was to go to her throne, our bed, in retreat. I think one or two of our children may have even used her tail as a teething tool a few times.
In all our recent travels back and forth, to our soon to be new hometown, Daisy seemed to be going down hill. She lost a little weight - they all do when we travel and leave them home alone. On our most recent stay away from home we were gone for a little over a week. I travelled back a forth half way through the week and took care of some things back home - banking, mail, bills, cats, dog, hamster, snake - and she was fine that short trip home. She slept on my feet that night and kept them warm. She ate well and seemed happy I was home. That was on Tuesday night. I returned to the new homestead Wednesday night to be back with my family and continue the search for a house. (That’s yet another story.) When we returned home on Sunday night, she seemed very out of sorts and quite upset. She settled down once we all got in and settled ourselves. The following Monday morning she was crying loudly and seemed not to know where she was. I picked her up to settle her and noticed her eyes were fixed and dilated. I realized she couldn’t see. I watched her go to her food bowl, eat, go to her water bowl, drink, go the litter box, and, well, litter. She returned to her favorite spot in my room, curled up and slept. I took Daisy to the vet, yes the same one who spared her life many years before, to have her eyes checked for certain. As he walked in the room, not knowing why I was there, he said, “That cat can’t see.” I really didn’t want him to say that, but I knew exactly what was going to come out of his mouth. We talked about what was best for Daisy. If we were staying in this house I would never have given it a second thought - everything would go right on the way it had been. Daisy was healthy otherwise and seemed happy as long as someone was around - that’s pretty much all the time. But to move her over four hours by car (cats so love car rides anyway) then tell her she had to learn a new house and pray she never got out of the house, that was just too much. We made the appointment to put her to sleep the next day.
I remember coming home from school as a young child and calling for our dog Lady. The Mother informed me she had taken Lady to the veterinarian that morning and had her put to sleep. She had some tumors that were making her sick. What I remember most is that I was never told she was sick, I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to help bury her, and to this day I remembering swearing I would never do that to my child - not let them say goodbye to a pet if it was at all possible. Accidents happen, but decisions are planned.
I came home and we informed the children that Daisy was suffering and it was fair to her to put her to sleep. The older two were sad, but understood. It was best for Daisy. Enter the five year old . . .
