Kitty Love: Lucy, My Angel Kitty

Little Lucy

Baby Lucy

Lucy came to live with me in September of 2001. My friend Jennifer’s dog had found three kittens in their field, and little Lucy was among them. It was love at first sight. She was so teeny tiny and loving and sweet that I begged, absolutely BEGGED Chris for us to take her home. We already had two cats, didn’t really need another, but this little kitty clung to me and squeaked like her life depended on it.

Lucy II

Pictures don’t do her justice. She was a breathtakingly beautiful cat with the most adorable squeaky meow. The first night with her, I gave her a bath and then cuddled with her for hours in a little bathroom. I was determined to have a lap cat, and Lucy was more than OK with that. She purred and purred and ever since then, she’d made her home on my lap. Sometimes when it wasn’t the most convenient.

Annoying Little Lucy

Lucy was super skittish. Most people probably really didn’t believe we had a third cat, because she was NEVER around when there was company. She’d disappear, only coming out when the company was gone and just the family was around.

She was naughty, getting into everything. Christmas was always… interesting with her around. She had a fascination with all sorts of Christmas trees.

Lucy Regards the Tree Lucy Loses

She loved orange processed cheese products, so Doritos and Cheetos were not safe around her. She’d come and lick all the “cheese” off. Other than that, she had no interest in people food. She liked to nibble on my hair (usually when I was sleeping) and she’d fidget and fidget and fidget until I blew my breath in her face. I guess she needed to know what I’d eaten that day before she could rest easy.

Little Lucy

Unfortunately, Little Lucy had to be put down on May 30, 2008 due to severe illness that set in very shortly after I moved to Chicago. She spent most of her time in or under the bed, too weak to even make it to her food and water most days. She never did adjust to living in Chicago and her health deteriorated quickly. I think about her every single day and miss her terribly, and I never stop wondering if there was anything I could have done to save her.

RIP my kitty angel. You will always be loved.

Little Lucy

More About Little Lucy…

Thank you all for your kind words yesterday. I feel a little better this morning, a little more accepting. Still hurting, though. I miss her. But I realize that I miss the healthy Lucy. The one who would plant her butt firmly on my keyboard when I was in the middle of typing an email or a LJ entry. The one who would stick her nose all the way into my mouth until she was satisfied that she learned what I had for dinner. The one who would wake me up at 2am because she had decided to pull my hair for whatever reason. The Little Lucy who wanted to get pet and darn it, she was GOING to get pet no matter what I was doing that I thought was so important.

I have never lost a major pet before. I always had fish and hamsters, and although I was sad that they left, it wasn’t like this. I had a dog in high school. Darby the Dog. He ran away while I was away at school, and although deep down I know that he probably didn’t survive, I like to believe that someone saw how awesome he was and took him in.

Lucy hadn’t been doing well ever since she moved here. At first, I thought it was stress from the move, that she needed a bit of space and would come out when she was ready; that was how she’d done big changes in the past. But this time she never really bounced back. Instead, she started eating less and less, drinking less and less, and then she wasn’t eating or drinking at all. She was always a little cat, but she was down to 4.5 pounds. She could barely walk without collapsing. Her liver had basically shut down, and she was dehydrated. It would have taken a week in the hospital to MAYBE get her better, and there is no way she could have handled that. She was always a delicate little thing, nervous and skittish. Even if it was just the two of us, any sudden movement would send her running to hide under the bed or behind the toilet. The stay in the hospital would have been far too traumatic for her. The vet said that given how sick she was, this was something that had going on for a while, and the stress from the move might have helped trigger it. :(

I’m slowly coming to terms with having made the decision to put her down yesterday. It was one of the hardest choices I’ve ever made. But when I held her in that office for one last time, and she was looking away, I knew that she had already said good-bye.

I feel so many things right now. Heartbreak, grief, emptiness, guilt. I knew that one day I would lose her, but I honestly expected at least six more years with her. To have her gone so suddenly is a shock.

I miss my little Lucy.

(Originally published at Anywhere Is…)