Thursday the 28th of May, Holly had a 3:30 appointment to “cross the Rainbow Bridge.” I knew this day was coming. When she first got Solensia injections in January, Holly rallied and was able to jump better and even get up to the pull out tray of the computer armoire. The last few weeks her ability to jump disappeared. Her right hind leg became more and more lame.
Our best time to play was always first thing after I put the coffeepot on in the early morning. When I would walk in the hallway, Holly would bat at my ankles which was my cue to spin around and chase her into the dining room. Before Holly’s decline, she would hop onto the dining table and she would destroy her peacock feathers, her favourite type of toy. Then we would play “spin the kitty’ where I’d spin Holly around on the smooth table top.
This old YouTube Tube shows a younger Holly tearing up her feather. I can’t figure out why my table is so scratched up!!
The past few weeks, the peacock feather destruction would take place on the floor. Holly had lost so much control of her hind quarters, she would just flop around on the tabletop..
Our last “play session” broke my heart. As I followed Holly down the hall, it was clear her rear legs were barely functioning. I had been finding feces around the house. Holly checked all the boxes for a cat in the process of dying. That was all reinforcement I needed to schedule Holly’s final journey.
My good friend and neighbor Kristie brought Holly into my life December 1, 2015. Holly had been living under a front porch of a student rental a few houses up the street from me. Kristie told me the students named her “Patches” because of her colouring. The 1960s endured a song genre cycle focused on tragic teen death. Car crashes on race tracks and railroad crossings were the most popular. The song “Patches” told of a teen suicide of a girl from the “wrong side of town” who lived by the coalyard named Patches. My sister Patty suggested Holly as a name as it was so close to XMAS. Holly was adopted for her name.
At her first checkup, my vet estimated Holly to be about three years old at the time. Her left ear was clipped indicating she had been captured, spayed, and released. Being such a “people friendly cat" I think she must have been abandoned by a student. That happens all too often here.
I have “close connections” to nearly everything in my life. The cat carrier I now use was bought in the fall of 1989. Ron’s company ended his job assignment at Kodak and he was called back to the main headquarters in Houston, TX. Ron’s two cats Honey, and Sister were shipped to Houston in these carriers. Every time I look at this carrier, I see those two cats looking out as they went on the airport luggage conveyor at the Rochester, NY airport. I’m not in the frame of mind to research out the exact dates in my paper journals.
After Ron's death in 1993, his cat Chloe was shipped to me in this carrier. Chloe made many trips to Tuscaloosa from Lockport, NY in this carrier. Chloe crossed over the "Rainbow Bridge” in the fall of 1997. My transfer south did not materialize until Memorial Day weekend 1998.
Fuzzie on the left. Chloe on the right. Last days in the Lockport house 1996.
I have two carriers now. This carrier plus the carrier from Mom’s cat Fuzzie. Fuzzie came to live with me after mom’s death in 1994. Fuzzie died late October 1996, on the weekend I drove a 17ft U-Haul to transport my antiques to Tuscaloosa.
These two carriers transported Daggy and Stumpy on our commutes between Bowling Green, KY and Tuscaloosa, AL 2004-2005.
Daggy on the left crossed the Rainbow Bridge in 2013 and Stumpy crossed in 2015. I was so devastated after losing Stumpy, I was all set to never have a pet again. Thanks to Kristie, the ice around my heart melted and Holly took over.
The past two weeks Holly kept close to me. She would stay on the bed or her window perch pretty much all day. I’d lay on the bed and she would settle in on my chest. I would try to comb out her coat with the wire flea comb. She had not been grooming and her fur was very matted. She would not let me comb out her hind legs.
I began to find feces around the house and I could tell she was still losing weight. Holly was checking all the boxes of a dying cat.
At the vet’s, I signed the consent form. Vets hate to euthanize but we all agreed this was the most merciful thing to do. Holly was very docile and stayed still on the exam table. She was first given a sedative to calm her down. I held my arms around her and massaged her under her chin and around her ears the entire time. I could feel her relaxing. After ten minutes the vet came in and the final injection was given. I cradled her head and felt her life pass. Holly went so peacefully and with dignity.
This morning when I woke up I realized this was the first morning waking up in this house since December 2, 2015 Holly was not with me.
When I had to have Chloe euthanized in 1997, I had been living in limbo waiting on my transfer to Tuscaloosa. All my belongings were in Tuscaloosa and I was renting a room from my BFF Joe. Losing Chloe pushed me over the edge into depression. This was a very dark time of my life I don’t like to dwell much on.
I found this article in the Reader's Digest before I had Chloe euthanized. It was a great help for me to realize I did the right thing.
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