Saturday, August 4, 2012

Rest in Peace, Sadie

I'm writing this post on Thursday because I don't think I can adequately tell you about Sadie today. Sadie is our 17 year old cat, our graceful princess who ruled the roost when we got her 16 years ago. As of late Sadie also has a failing body, confused mind and painful movement. That is no way to live and so we have chosen to let Sadie cross the rainbow bridge.

Dear Sadie,
As much as we love you we have to let you go to a place free of pain, and hopefully full of catnip, 80 degree sunshine, a cushioned bed and canned food. Hopefully dogs will leave you alone, and if they don't, please be kind to them. They are not as mature as you. There should be a person, preferably a woman, for you to sleep on at night and knead bread on her back.

You've survived, from the moment you were plucked from the city pound, with grace and a keen sense of confidence and self-preservation. The first time I met you you were 5 and hiding under the bed during a party. The next time I met you when you slept on my back. I went to sleep alone and woke up with your 10 pounds of weight nestled down asleep. I knew then that things were meant to be.

In your middle years strings were chased, you learned to jump on counter tops, the outside world was explored and you slept on us, never one to leave the bed if a person was in it. You slept in the sunshine or on the couch where we moved around you. You were curious, often poking your head around a corner to check what was going on before moving to your destination.

When you were ten we got you a kitten brother. You regarded him with all the contempt and disdain you could muster. Charlie loved you, worried about you and tried hard to play. If you noticed him you hissed and swatted but Charlie kept watch. You were still in charge. A few years later came your dog brother Max. This was a relationship of tolerance. You were slowing down but still got in a swipe now and again.

You were shy around strangers. We knew this and it was ok. We cut a hole between bedrooms so you could have your own space without having to go by Max. You've persevered between multiple moves, a flood and people coming and going with the grace that you have.

We knew your body was failing of the things that happen to old cats. We tried, with canned food twice a day, brushing your fur when you couldn't groom, trimming your nails when you couldn't scratch and creating stairs to places you needed to reach, but ultimately time wins. We can't let you live in pain for that is no life and so we let you go but remember always.
Love always,
Your moms

1 comment:

  1. What a wonderful tribute to a beautiful feline companion. My heart goes out to the moms (and to Max and Charlie, too). Thank you for loving your four-legged family members so very much!