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A Shrine to Titania

March, 1991 - April 15th, 2006
11:30 am Eastern USA time

Two or three days prior, it was noticed that Titania had no appetite, and indeed did not approach the food bowl when food was served. She seemed very listless. When this repeated during the evening food serving, she was rushed to the vet. She spent the night at the vet's, undergoing tests. At least one other household cat went meowling for her.

She was brought home the next evening, with the diagnosis of systemic lymphoma. The vets said she'd perked up and could survive several months with aggressive treatment.

Once home, she fell back into her listless ways. (I think the stress of being at the vet's put her on temporary alert.)

I kept her upstairs and secluded from the other cats for observation, and fed her her favorite form of human food (chicken). She refused to eat, but would lap some water if you placed it in front of her. I placed her on the window sill, accompanyied by soft towels.

I placed the fatal call to the vet's. She wanted to die with dignity.

I allowed the other cats to say their farewells -- Ptarmigan (who was to pass on the following year) engaged in a noble nose-sniffing and sympathy; the other two cats acted less than charitable, and I quickly got them downstairs.

(It's been two years, and I'm crying as I type this.)

I left her at her window over night. She moved around in some discomfort but didn't really go far. Occasionally I put her by a litter box, and she complied. Then I brought her back to her window. I burnt a candle for her, and played the sort of music she liked (classical -- Vivaldi).

She'd been my indoor-outdoor cat for many years, until ticks became too prevalent. So when it was time to go to the vet's, I put the carrier in the car, then came back and carried her around the outside of the house. She sniffed at the fresh air, and seemed to appreciate this, and very willingly went into the carrier once at the car.

I wish I could say the rest of her experience was gentle. No, we had to wait in the reception room for half an hour with loud noisy dogs and loud noisy small children who all wanted to look at my cat, not knowing it was her final journey.

But I was with her during her final moments, as she lost consciousness looking directly at me with a sense that I have to interpret as relief.

I came home afterwards with an empty cat carrier (I donated her towel to the vet's), and went out back and loudly called her name, as I'd done back in days of old when she romped outdoors. In spirit, I know she came.

I will miss her forever.

Ashes and Shrine

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