She had to go...

…and I had to let her.” I found this quote from Gail Caldwell’s memoir on the loss of her dog poignant and sweet, and I knew that I would soon be in a similar situation. Millie, my feline companion of 17 years, had to go last Wednesday. And I had to let her. According to the vet’s chart she would have been 19 yesterday, which in people years is nearly 92. She’d had a good, long life.

With my first cat, Spiffy, I learned about feline leukemia during his short life of 5 years. His successor, Kimberly Katt, was diabetic for the last 10 of her 18 years, and required daily insulin. She was quite healthy and active until she had a seizure. Miss Millie had thyroid issues and it was senility and gastric problems that finally brought her down. When it comes to health, the animal world is not so different from our own.

While Spiff was a stalker, hunting for prey in the form of spiders and imaginary enemies, and Kimberly would thunder through the house as we played fetch, Millie was an engineer. Her favorite recreational activity was watching a string pulled under or through something. She could calculate where it would end up, and that’s where she would pounce. Her accuracy was un-catty. When it comes to skills, the animal world is not so different from our own.

All three of my cats have been affectionate and communicative. Spiff was ok as long as some part of him was touching some part of me, Kimberly would spoon next to me at night, but Millie was the most cuddly and verbal. In the morning she was anxious to tell me about her nighttime dreams and when I got home from work she had to inform me about the happenings of the day. Her meow is on my home voice message. When Millie was in need of special attention she would sit with her back paws on my lap and her head under my chin. Last Wednesday, as she told me it was her last day, we had our normal morning routine as she curled up with me on the couch while I meditated. Even in loving, the animal world is not so different from our own.

I picked Spiffy from a litter delivered by a colleagues’ well-loved pet and got him when he was newly weaned. I found Kimberly at a shelter when she was 6 months old, and was introduced to Millie by the staff at the Cat Practice who had taken her in as a young teen mom.  They thought she and I might make a good team. When it comes to creating a family, how we include an animal is not so different from how we add humans.

One blog last October gave tribute to things I have learned from Millie. It began by sharing that even when she miscalculated her jump, she would get right back up and try again. It ended with the fact that she would let me know when she wanted attention, that it is ok to ask to be noticed and acknowledged. I will end this blog with the fact that in our last months together she taught me to keep on living even as you prepare to die, and that we need to pay attention to know when it is time to let go. Even in death, the animal world is not so different from our own.

So, to all of our furry, 4-legged, winged, gilled, scaly, and other animal companions who had to go, thank you for the joy, laughter, love, and trust that you taught and shared. Now go play nice with one another, and Millie, catch Spiffy and Kimberly up on all the news from down here.

Marilyn