One Last Purr
Basette purred when I picked her up during the consultation with her vet this morning. We spoke candidly about the Little Black Wonder Cat(tm): treatment options, outlook, and chances for Basette to have a normal life. She had received regular fluids to flush toxins (side effect of the kidney disease). Her glucose levels, usually stabilized by her healthy eating habits, were spiking and dropping. She didn’t feel because she wasn’t consistently interested in eating. In fact, Basette’s illnesses might never be enough under control so she could come home.
While Dr. Kris and I spoke, we watched Basette walk. She took a few wobbly steps, stopped, and then walked slowly ahead — straight into a wall with a solid thud. After the second time wall-thud, I picked her up again. At first she purred, then squirmed to be put down (and she walked into walls again).
I sat with her for several hours. The vet and I both loved on Basette. The Little Black Wonder Cat(tm) seemed confused, only partially lucid, and in mild pain. I knew it was time, and told the vet so. She nodded, agreed that we had tried everything.
Basette was taken around to the staff so they could say good bye. The vet also spent some time with her. They brought her back in and placed her on a soft lambswool bed. They gave her the first shot so she fell asleep. Her head gradually lowered, eyelids half-closed, and nose buried in the wool. I crossed her legs in front of her, placed her head on them–a posture she frequently used when asleep. I petted her the entire time. They left me alone with Basette for a while, and I said my good byes to a very dear friend.
After a few minutes, Dr Kris came back in and gave Basette the second shot. Slowly, Basette’s breathing stilled and the Little Black Wonder Cat(tm) left this world.
I know in my heart we did the right thing. It doesn’t make it any easier. Every possible route to help her feel better had been explored. I firmly believe that to have kept trying would only have been torturing her.
It is a glorious humid east Tennessee day.
The Little Black Wonder Cat(tm) has made the final trip home. She will be missed by many people.
Especially me.
Sleep well, little Bast.
She was a wonderful kitty. Fastest claws in the east. Only cat I’ve ever seen completely cower a dog. She was so tough. She went through a lot. You are a good mom. She was very lucky to have you. I’ll miss her dearly.
Thank you, Mel. She was a wonderful kitty. Vicious, yet cuddly. I miss her terribly. Not the sick kitty, but the memory of the kitty who purred whlie shredding dog fur, attacked my hand to get me to release the string so she could play with it on her terms, and the kitty who was a constant company for almost half of my life.
Basset was (is) a wonderful cat. She was brave and tough. I remember she took to me immediately, which cats don’t usually do with strangers — especially cats with a guardian temperament like Basette’s. She was (and is) wonderful. You were a good mother, and you did the right thing — the only thing you could have done in good conscience. I know that doesn’t make it any easier, but it’s the truth. And, as my grandmother used to say: “The truth is the truth, and it will stand when the world is on fire.”
Queen Basette was the epitomy of unfazed dignity, a cat whose presence was far mightier than her stature. Sleep well, Butterball.