Let me tell you a little bit about Momma Kitty. Nineteen years ago, I was in the market for a kitten. I wanted a shelter or pound kitty, not any specific breed or color.
On one of my frequent trips to the pound, I met a man going in as I was going out. I asked him what he had there. He told me he had a kitten. It was part of a feral litter that lived in the woods behind his house. She was the runt, which probably saved her life. You see, the mother and other kittens were killed by another animal. She alone survived. Of course, I took her home with me.
My then teenage sons fell in love with her. She was a feisty little thing, quick and energetic. She loved attention and was vocal in her opinions on everything else.
Before she was a year old, she got pregnant. She had 5 kittens, one was stillborn. Needless to say she was spayed after her pregnancy. Of those 4 we found homes for 2 and ended up keeping 2.
She was the smallest of all the cats we had, but she was the toughest. She took no silliness from the other cats and they gave her a wide berth.
Time went by. As karma would have it, she outlived her two sons. She was arthritic and had cataracts. She couldn’t see well enough to get to a litter box, so we provided “puppy” pads for her. She sort of hobbled when she walked, but it didn’t slow her down much.
She loved being outside in the sun. I think the heat felt good on her old, arthritic joints.
I noticed a few days ago a strange balance problem and a behavior indicative of confusion. These episodes lasted less than a minute. Intuitively I knew the end was near. We made her last days as comfortable as possible. When the end was near, we made sure we were close and talked soothingly to her. Death is a trip we all make alone, but it needn’t be without love and support.
Momma Kitty you will be missed.