Good Bye Sweet Kitty, A rememberance of my cat Taco. Options

[Taco's Mummy]

I just wanted to share the story of my one of a kind kitty named Taco. I was 22 years old living in an apartment with a friend when I met her 16 years ago.

I remember being outside on the back porch on the second floor when I saw you. You were a skinny, tri-colored calico/tabby roaming in the back yard in front of this old barn. I always loved cats and called out “kitty”. I remember how you, to my surprise, looked up and ran up the stairs to greet me. Most kitties make you work for their affection but you and I were instant friends.

I would leave food and water outside on the porch and you would come visit me every day. I’ll never forget how you would make me laugh so hard. I would be cooking up some food on the stove and I’d hear you meowing. I’d look over and you would literally be hanging on the screen door 3 feet off the ground with all four paws spread out in the screen door. I wish I had a picture of that.

I found out that your “owner” lived across the street but wasn’t much of an owner. I was friendly with my landlady and her daughter and they told me how it scared them so much to see you crossing the busy street but they swore that you would look both ways first. You were such a smart kitty! You were a master of not only climbing trees but climbing back down them (backwards). And what a hunter you were! I’ve never met such a streetsmart yet incredibly personable cat. Everybody loved Taco. She was a real charmer in a fiesty, tough girl kind of way (though she never would hurt any people. Eventually I put a bell on her colar to put a stop to the hunting). I remember the first time I picked you up and held you like a baby. I was a little bit scared that you wouldn’t like it and might fight me, but you let me. I’ve held you like that countless of times since then.

Well it wasn’t too long before you were knocked up. I thought for sure that your owner would start taking care of you. How big you got. I remember feeding you and petting you and seeing your belly get huge. Then one day you came by and you were skinny. After I fed you, you gave me this sort of sad stare then slowly went along your way. I followed you with my eyes and saw you crawl under the nextdoor neighbor’s porch steps.

The next day I asked my landlady if I could take you and your kittens in and she said yes! My roomate and I went next door and told them that we needed to go in the backyard to collect the kittens. I’ll never forget what a beautiful site they were as they were pulled out from under the steps. You kept picking them back up by the scruff and trying to put them back but eventually we filled up the laundry basket with your 4 precious kittens. You followed us back to our apartment meowing all the way and when at last we got to our kitchen with a big cardboard box filled with towels and set you all inside, you got it. You and your kittens were going to be taken care of with a nice, warm, dry shelter and lots and lots of loving. And I could tell how happy you were! You were the best mommy. So content to nurse them and clean them and love them. And they were the cutest kittens ever. I found homes for all of them and decided to keep your beautiful calico runt.

After the kittens were gone, I had you fixed. It was time to leave that apartment and I was planning to leave you behind. After all, you weren’t really mine. I am so grateful to the landlady’s daughter. She visited me one day and told me that she spoke with your “owner” and told him that I was moving and that I was going to take you with me. She said that he said that he didn’t care. I don’t know if this is true but, heck, if he let you have your babies outside in September then it probably was true.

I remember packing up the apartment. You looked so sad. I think you thought that I was going to leave you. But I put you and your daughter in my car and drove off to my parents’ house to live in the basement while I went back to school. Once there, you were both so curious and I think that’s when you realized that I wasn’t going to leave you and you truly looked so happy!

Now, you weren’t always perfect. You did have a bit of a behavior problem. You could not resist peeing on the bathroom rug so I had to be diligent about keeping the bathroom door closed. Nonetheless, I think I had to get rid of at least 5 bathroom rugs because of you. And I spent hours cleaning up a spot on my mother’s dining room carpet and heaven forbid I leave a towel on the floor. You would be sure to pee on it. But for the most part, you would use the litter box as long as I kept it clean despite your wild urges. I could never stay mad at you for long.

Naming your daughter took some time. Her first name was Neptune but it didn’t stick. Then one day I cooked Fajitas for dinner and just about simultaneously, my mother, brother and I said “Fajita!”. She had a name. My brother kept calling you Taco but I didn’t care for that name and kept calling you “Kitty”.

A couple of years later, you Fajita and I moved from the east coast to the west coast. You were both there for me through some pretty lonely times before I had made new friends. I don’t know if I could have lasted out there all by myself. But you were always there to make me smile and laugh and to talk to. You were both excellent chatters, you could really hold a conversation.

Then when Fajita was 7, we lost her to tragedy. I went on vacation and the person watching my cat let her get out of the apartment and did not tell me. She was taken by Animal Control and put down. This was absolutely the most devastating time of my life. Fajita was my baby. I told this story years later to some jerk on a blind date and he said that I had a “blessed life”. He wanted to know what the hardest thing I ever had to deal with was. What a moron! Needless to say, I never saw that insensitive dope again. To be honest, at that time, Fajita was really my baby. You would sleep at my foot and she would sleep in my arms. I loved you but not like my baby. I mean, I did have her since she was just 2 days old. That was a strong bond. I really didn’t expect that I could ever love you as stongly as her but I was wrong.

Years went on and before long, you would crawl into my arms at night. And though your coloring was different, you 2 kitties did have very similar, beautiful facial features. I would look into your eyes and see a little bit of Fajita and I was so glad that I still had you. My brother and mother continued to refer to you as “Taco” and before long, I too was calling you Taco. I guess you were just too unique to be called “Kitty”.

Remember the time when I woke up and could not find you? I looked all over the place. Finally I went to the balcony of my 4th floor apartment and saw you on the ground! Completely unharmed, waiting for me to come and get you. That was definitely one of your 9 lives.

Then there was the time you disappeared for 2 weeks. I cried and cried and went to the Humane Society and posted a picture. I hired a search and rescue dog that followed your scent to a school. I posted flyers all around the school and a couple of days later you returned! You were well fed and dry even though it had been raining for days. Somebody else was loving you (even though you did have a collar). I guess the signs I posted made them realize that they needed to let you go even though you were an awsome cat.

So many people have come in and out of my life in the 16 years that I’ve had with you and you always made me proud being friendly and chatty and funny and charming. Sweet, happy little Taco Belle.

I had moved back East and have been living in apartments for the last few years and had been keeping you inside for your own safety but last year I discovered that you walk quite well on a leash. Remember our walks to the park with Tom and Erik and Julia? We always got a lot of curious looks and smiles. Remember climbing up the tires onto the playground set in the park? I really thought that we still had a few more years left, you seemed so youthful and happy. Luckily we took quite a few of those walks this past year.

I lost you on November 1st, 2006. In the summer you had been peeing on the kitchen floor and I was so frustrated with you, I thought you were misbehaving again. Then one day you were so weak you couldn’t hold your head up. My father’s cat was like that right before she died and I broke down crying when I saw you like that. I took you to the Vet thinking that this was it. She said that it was your kidneys and that I could administer subcutaneous fluids and that might keep you alive. I decided to do it and after a week or 2 you really started to look better even though you were so skinny. I would put you on a leash and bring you out to the backyard. At first you would just stay on one spot too weak to smell the flowers or walk around. Before long you were darting out the back door and crying to go out every chance you could. We had such a sunny, lovely autumn and you would go find a sunny spot and lie down with your eyes almost closed, purring and as content looking as could be. I will always cherish that time with you.

After one month, I took you to the vet and you had lost a whole pound. My kitty that was once a chubby 10 pounds was now weighing in at 4 and half pounds. Her hind legs were so weak and her backbone potruded. But you looked so happy and with the help of a laundry basket next to the bed, you could get up and sleep with me. In the last days I would often wake up with your nose right next to mine, your eyes wide open, you purring and looking at me. You never used to do this. Were you trying to tell me something? Were you saying goodbye?

The past 2 months weren’t easy. Subcutaneous fluids, syringe feedings, medicines, Vet visits, some difficult days and nights where you were so sick. And I had to let you go to the bathroom on newspaper on the floor because you were to weak to climb into the litter box. Part of me thought that it was so hard but once you were gone, I really missed taking care of you so much more than I could have imagined.

The Vet told me that you had anemia but that I could treat you. Treatments were going to be costly and I was already stressed out about the other costs and I delayed treatment thinking that you were doing well. Then it was too late. One day you lost your eyesite and you seemed to be really confused and to not really hear sounds normally. I knew that the time was near. Then in the last 12 hours of your life you had 2 horrible siezures. The second one left you unresponsive to me. In a way, maybe it made it easier for me to have you put to sleep when you were in this state. But all of the sudden I have these awful thoughts like “will she be ok in heaven?” “Will she be healed in the afterlife?” Just thoughts that haunt me and make me feel so horrible for not getting her started on the anemia medication immediately. Not that she would have lived forever. But maybe another month? Another year? Maybe she would not have had those horrible siezures? I just don’t know. And of course there’s the horrible guilt of not taking her to the vet this summer when she started urinating on the floor. And that loop of her last hours alive, having her die in my arms (which I am extremely grateful for), taking her to the crematorium, those siezures, that vacant look in her after her last siezure. I suppose that death is always terribly difficult with someone you love. I do thank my partner Tom for being extremely supportive and understanding, for taking off work to be with us during her last hours. It can’t be easy coming home to someone who’s not taking very good care of herself lately. I know that I need to be stronger.

Taco, I love you so much. I cry for you almost every day (there’s been one day so far that I haven’t cried). Going out to the back yard is horribly difficult. I’m actually comforted by the colder weather since I know that you would not enjoy it. I thought I was prepared for your loss since you had a nice long life. I thought that your death would be nothing compared to Fajita’s. And it certainly isn’t as tragic and difficult but it has been much, much harder than I could have expected. You really gave me so much joy. You were such a great kitty. Such a great personality. So smart, so funny. Such a good buddy. I know that there will never be another one like you.

I do think that our little pets fill this maternal or parternal instinct in some of us. There is a definite void left after they leave us. At least maybe I’m a little less afraid to die because I hope that when I do, I will be with you and Fajita again.

I thank everyone here. I’ve read many posts and cry almost everytime I visit. But I do think that tears are healing and I do feel like I am healing. But I think it will take a long time. My hearts go out to everyone here. It really is good to know that I am not alone with the depth of my grief. I don’t think I knew anyone who had grieved for their pets like I have. Not until I came here.

I know this is a really, really long post. Thank you for reading it. I just wanted to remember Taco and put in writing things that I don’t want to forget. And I wanted others to know about this wonderful kitty that led a special life.

Taco Kitty 1988? –November 1, 2006. Rest in peace my beautiful kitty.

This was her a couple of weeks ago outside in the sun

Attached image(s)

 

[Schtoobing'sMom]

What a beautiful, well-written story! Taco sounds like a really wonderful cat- I love the pictures of her too. Your story about her struggle with CRF sounds a lot like my experience with Schtoobing- Taco and Schtoob were almost the same age too.

I understand what you mean about wondering if you should have taken your baby to the vet sooner- I didn't realize how sick my baby really was. I was absorbed by work, buying a new house and moving. I didn't pay enough attention to my baby's needs, and I feel guilty about it. I think that if we had started the sub-q's sooner, he wouldn't have been so weak, and might have lived longer. But then there was the tumor we didn't know about... We had started the treatment for anemia only a week before he died, but he was too sick from the tumor for it to start working.

I also know what you mean about the cost. One tiny little vial of Procrit cost almost $50, and was only enough for 3 doses. I worried about how I was going to afford all the medications, blood work and exams. Now that my baby is gone, I would give everything to have him back with me.

I also feel guilty about spanking my baby 5 years ago, when he kept peeing on the bed. He was upset because we had moved into a house with another cat, and I was so frustrated that he was peeing everywhere. I came home from class and he had peed right in the middle of the bed. Again. I think Schtoobing forgave me, but I feel just awful about spanking him. After all, he didn't ask to move, and didn't understand what was happening. Schtoobing, I'm so very sorry I spanked you!

Anyway, sorry to ramble about my baby. Thank you so much for sharing the story of Taco and Fajita's lives. Please know that you are not alone in your grief- the folks at this board really understand what it's like to cherish our sweet babies.

[Taco's Mummy]

Dear Schtoobing's Mom,

Thank you for the kind words of understanding. I read your story and, yes, our kitties and ourselves seemed to have followed a similar path. The kitty we get as a young adult, one of our first adult responsibilities, they stay with us when other people enter and leave our lives....They're just the best, what can I say?

I know how you feel about the guilt. This summer, Taco was trying to tell me something by peeing on the floor and one time when I caught her I actually scolded her. Of course I feel like an ass. And this summer was much busier for me than normal. I was working full time, taking a class and I pushed myself even further by joining a gym. On weekends I would go to school. I hardly had any quality time with her this summer and was not as alert to her as I should have been.

And I also feel like a cheap jerk for not putting her on the anemia medication right away. Treating her with the procit was going to be an additional $400 a month when you include the vet visits, medicine and lab work. I was already averaging about $500 a month. But now I feel like I should have not given it a second thought and just put it on my credit card. And maybe she would be here right now sitting on my lap like she always did when I was on the computer. I feel just horrible about that.

But then I look at you and your story and feel your guilt I think that I could not possibly fault you for anything. Our cats were very ill. You loved your kitty and he knew that till the end.... Well, I don't know if you'll revisit this space so I will comment on your space. But about the spanking, please forgive yourself. I got spanked a couple of times as a kid and I don't hold it against my parents. Cats are extremely forgiving when they love you and you know that your baby loved you.

Thank you,
Sandy

Attached image(s)

 

[Taco's Mummy]

I just wanted to post of few more pictures of my babies, Taco and Fajita. It's been 3 weeks today since I lost Taco....

Here are some picures of them in better times.

Attached image(s)

 

[Schtoobing'sMom]

Oh. my. gosh! They are absolutely adorable!

[Taco's Mummy]

11.27.06 Update: I've decided to forgive myself. It seems like in my grief, all I could do was think about what could have been. I seemed to forget that my cat was rapidly losing weight, her kidneys were not working (her urine didn't even smell), she had incontinece problems and had to be confined to one room when I was not home, she couldn't even use the litter box, her hind legs were so weak. I had read all about renal failure cats on line. Some do survive for years with all the treatements but my cat was 18-20 years and 4 and a half pounds. I knew deep in my heart that nothing could fix her and treating her with every possible treatment would only prolong her breakdown. Did I do the right thing? Maybe. I don't know. But I do know that she had some joy until the end and that my decision was out of love for her and I would have gladly spent anything to fix her.


Schtoobing's Mom, thank you. Yes, those kitties were precious indeed. It will be nice to have the joy of a new kitty someday.

[Schtoobing'sMom]

Your story and thoughts about Taco are so similar to mine with Schtoobing, I feel like we are all kindred spirits. I researched CRF online too, and like you, I wondered exactly how far I should push it. I didn't want to keep Schtoobing alive if he was going to be miserable. I knew that any treatment was only going to prolong the inevitable. Like you, I knew that I could not fix my baby.

I believe you did exactly the right thing for Taco. I'm glad you have forgiven yourself, and I know you'll be a wonderful mom to a new baby...

[Taco's Mummy]

Schtoobing's Mom,

It means a lot to me that you think I did the right thing. Especially since you know exactly what I was going through and knew about Renal Failure and all. Thank you so much.

Sandy