
Fourteen years ago this-coming summer I went to a picnic one Sunday afternoon at a place in York Haven that my friends refer to as "The Ranch". In the country setting, there are always a few cats. This particular afternoon there was a little gray kitten running around. Upon second look, I found out this was a polydactyl (extra toes) cat. My friend, Carl, put her in my lap and said "Here you go, Nanc ... here's Mittens." Indeed her little paws looked like mittens.
I went home without her that day.
The following day I decided to go back for her and by Thursday she was my cat. I brought her home to two other cats and the rest became history. Now, she was never a very friendly cat ... she just did not get along all that well with the other cats. She never outright fought, but she let them know she was a Diva and wasn't putting up with any alley cat nonsense.
As time wore on, Mittens drew a personality all her own. My roommate and I used to say she slipped out to the "kitty bar" when we weren't looking. She even had a little purse with a straw hat and sixty-nine cents for emergency cases. It is still here and in tact. She loved to lay on her back and sleep. We fondly started to call this the "pooh-tang" shot and she would readily lay like that if she wanted something.
She was a loner to the end. She never played with the other cats. She never left me pick her up or hold her. She lived entirely in her own little world.
A few months ago I noticed that she was losing a little weight and having lethargic days. I knew I wasn't feeding "good healthy" food; so I changed to a much better grade of cat food. Mittens rallied and seemed to be doing well. She was still much lighter and had that "old cat" look but she was happy and so was I. About a week or so ago she started hiding in the back of my closet and would only come out to drink, and hopefully eat. There were no accidents, so I assumed she was using the litter box. I went out and bought her canned food (which I hate) and she accepted it. Once again I expected her to rally. She seemed better.
Yesterday when I came home she was sleeping and very lethargic ... did not even move when I tried to pet her or pick her up. Immediately my sixth sense told me it wouldn't be long. I called upon a friend of my who is a veternarian. He was on his way to the gym but said he would stop by later and "take a look". In the meantime when I went to check on her, she couldn't even stand up. I wrapped her in a blanket and took her in my lap and talked and sang to her. When David arrived, he told me she was close to the end. He assured me that even if he took her and gave her fluid ressusitation and meds, she would still only make it approximatly five or six days. I made the decision to put her to asleep in peace.
She laid very still and when the needle went into her vein, she didn't even wince. It was over in a matter of about two minutes. I hated to see her go but was glad I was there to say goodbye. I know she is now sitting on the Rainbow Bridge looking out and saying "Here I am; the Diva" ... but don't get too close!!!
My other two cats are still looking for her. They miss her too and it seemed so funny to come home today and not see her there. I will miss her.
Sleep well, my little comrade; hope there is a kitty bar at the Rainbow Bridge.