Sunday, March 17, 2013

Again, it's been a while since I blogged!  I must ask your indulgence today. Only those who have pets will understand the sadness in our hearts. If you don't have a pet, don't read.  You won't get it.

Last November I started an English course online.  The last assignment was to write an essay of 1000 words on a subject of our choosing.  Below is my essay.


The Morning Routine

 Having a morning routine is probably one of the best ways to rise and shine each day. The day always begins in a tried and true manner.  My morning routine always starts with a pounce, a purr and a soft nudge.

The sun isn’t up yet and I am awakened by the sound of a motorboat, a small motorboat that is right beside my ear. The sound is gentle but persistent and is followed by the tickle of a whisker.  A wet nose to dry nose sniff and a throaty growl follow suit.  The purring motorboat stops and is replaced with a series of small growls and chirps as the body hops away from me and lands on the bedside table. A steady cat-eyed stare complements the growling. As I slowly extricate myself from the warmth of the duvet, the cat happily arches her back in the quintessential stretch of a feline and utters one last chirp. The gentle thud as all paws hit the floor ends the routine as we both head downstairs for coffee and cat food. The day is just not the same when the tickle of whiskers is not there.

A true beauty with a lofty attitude to all lowly humans, she arrived in 2005 from a prior home that kept her in the basement and submitted her to the rapt attentions of a child who knew no better and who was not curtailed in his abusive treatment. It must have been quite a shock to her system, to have the lowly new humans actually take an interest in her well being by providing love without harm.  She acclimatized slowly to the new surroundings but fear not, she became queen of her humans very quickly! A cat not inclined to toys, she merrily chases shadows across the floor. Should a lowly human deign to toss a pompom or small ball in her general direction, the look of a sarcastic, “Really?” is reflected in her glass green eyes!

An absolute representative of feline perfection is really the only way to describe our calico. Her coat is a combination of bright orange splotches subtly mixing with chocolate brown and pure white.  Dainty white dipped paws, rosebud pink nose and the most mesmerizing green eyes ever seen. Her whiskers, long and numerous, dance across her face and help to give her an all-knowing attitude. Her ritual of baths is never ending and her coat gleams in the sunlight. Bast, the Egyptian Cat Goddess of protection, pleasure, the sun, moon and fertility, has no better representative here on earth!

Her temperament is not so glowing. She is a calico, a breed known for a disdain to humans.  She has a princess attitude and a queenly bearing until she wants to be adored. Then, she is all kitten, full of head butts, nose to nose nuzzles and a deep, throaty purr that rivals that of a small outboard motor!  She is the delight of the family. The family has changed in scope over the last 2 years but she remains steadfast to the younger humans and is a constant source of calm and grounding for me.

I write in the present tense, but today I must now write in the past, when talking about Gabby. She has been ill for about 3 years, losing weight and fortitude. Rounds of new foods to entice eating, rounds of new medicines to slow down the debilitating progress of the disease, rounds of visits to the vet all availed only a minute halting of the inevitable. She was strong willed and endured the countless visits to the dreaded vet clinic with a subtle resignation. Well, perhaps not always subtle. She became known as “crabby Gabby” due to the unwillingness to have her temperature taken or to be examined by the vet. Understandable, as these procedures plus the force-feeding of pills, the shaving of her  fur for an IV and an ultrasound are not top ten in a cat’s repertoire of a good day. To her credit, at no time did her illness interfere with the morning routine.

She has had a well-rounded life with her humans.  Since joining our family, she has been to Milton, Oakville, Mississauga and Fort Erie. She has espied the birds and rabbits from many, many windows and has had infinite number of baths while soaking up the warm golden sunbeams in the afternoons. She actually caught a mouse once, and that would be the highlight of her huntress skills.  She would rather watch than participate in the hunt! Laser beams and shadows were much more interesting and easier to catch than wildlife and the ability to stalk and pounce on a mound of tissue paper at her human’s birthday, was much more to her liking.

Today, with immense sadness, I took Gabby for the last time to the vet.  It was, and still is, a heart wrenching decision, one of the most difficult I have ever had to make.  In order to preserve the memory of our feline beauty, to let her continue as she has been doing for the last little while, would be cruel.  Her memory cannot be made a mockery of, and I would not rest if I knew she were suffering at my indecision to promote quality of life over quantity of life.

The vet clinic personnel have known our calico for many years.  They took us in to a lovely quiet room so I could spend the last moments with her.  They were very gentle with both Gabby and me.  There was no rush. The time came and she was in my lap, curled, ready for a nap. The nap came quickly and with ease.  We rested together for a few minutes before she was taken away. She is now at peace. Or bathing in a mammoth sunbeam, as the birds twitter above her. Either vision will suit.

My morning routine will now change and as humans, we are not hard-wired for change. It takes time for the new routine to evolve and to become inevitable. The love I have for Gabby will not diminish as time attempts to heal the hurt. Until then, it is now a mourning routine.




 

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