Hello. It's been over a year since I posted here last. I first posted in October 2008, when my black cat Vicki was mauled to death by dogs on October 8. Since then, we've had a rough year. At this time last year, I was caregiver to my mother-in-law, who was dying of Alzheimer's. This past December 5, this dear lady lost her battle with that terrible disease. We've been battling financial difficulties and also I had to have surgery (thyroid removed). And now we have lost another cat.
This time it was Anna, our white cat with the striped raccoon tail. She was so sweet. She had the softest meow, the softest purr. She loved laps. If you sat down, she'd be in your lap. And when I'd be on the computer, she'd lay on top of the monitor and hang her little head over the edge and look at me while she dropped off for a nap. Now she is gone.
We don't know what killed her. 3 weeks ago today, she got out of the house and disappeared. No one saw her go. My daughter Sara and I searched the house for her. We searched the yard outside. For the next 2 1/2 weeks I walked through the neighborhood, calling her name and knocking on doors and asking neighbors if they had seen a white cat with a coon tail and for them to please be on the lookout for her. Everyone was very kind and promised they would keep an eye out, but no one had seen her. My husband told me that one night when he was working (he's a Papa John's pizza delivery driver), as he was driving home he thought he saw a white cat, but he couldn't stop and anyway he said it was just a glimpse and he didn't know where the cat went. We had no idea where she was, and I was hoping that maybe she had found another loving family. She was so friendly, she'd go up to anybody.
This past Sunday, at around midnight, my daughter Sara (who is 13) ran into my room. Anna was Sara's special kitty, and Sara had been missing her so. "Anna's home, Anna's home!" she cried happily. "Wonderful!" I responded, and together we ran down to the basement to see her.
The minute I saw her, however, I knew that something was wrong. She was huddled up on the floor, not moving. I bent down and petted her gently, calling her name and touching her with my hands. She had lost weight, and her fur was dingy. She did not respond to me. She didn't look at me. We put food and water in front of her, and she wouldn't eat or even drink any water. She couldn't walk. All she would do was sort of creep, inch by inch, across the floor.
My older daughter, Marianne, told us that she had been upstairs in our den. There's a sliding glass door that leads out to our back yard. Marianne said she heard a cat's meow, looked up, and there was Anna looking in! Marianne hollered out that Anna was back, and Sara ran out immediately, picked her up, and brought her inside. Sara told me that Anna purred when she picked her up.
I was really worried about this strange behavior. She looked really sick. She felt sort of cold to the touch. We lined her pet bed with warm towels, gently lifted her into it, and wrapped the towels snugly around her. Once or twice, she meowed, and that worried me. It was a loud, piercing meow, so unlike her usual very soft meow. She must have been in pain, or frightened. I felt so bad I wasn't able to help her. But then she settled down and seemed to be resting quietly. My last memory of her in life was of her lying in her pet bed, wrapped in warm towels and resting peacefully.
At this point, it was about 2 am. We discussed how strangely she was acting and how she didn't look well. We finally decided that we would take her to the vet the very first thing in the morning and find out what was wrong. Marianne took the pet bed, with Anna safely wrapped up in the towels lying in it, into her own bed so she could watch her throughout the night.
We didn't get the chance to take her to the vet. At about 6:30 am, Marianne came upstairs and told us, "Anna died."
What happened to her during those 2 1/2 weeks, we don't know. We don't know where she was. We don't know if she had some sort of accident or if she simply died of exposure and starvation. Before this happened, she was perfectly healthy. She was 6 years old. She had no wounds on her when she came home and was not bleeding, although Marianne told us it seemed to her that one of Anna's legs was broken. She seemed unable to walk, and how she managed to drag herself home with a broken leg I don't know. All we know is that she somehow made her way home before she died, and that she spent her last hours surrounded by our love. I am glad that God brought her home to us and that she didn't die out in the woods somewhere with no one to know or care.
I wonder if I could have done more. I walked through the neighborhood calling her name and asking neighbors if they had seen her. I went to the animal shelter, checked the cat room, and gave her description to them. Maybe I just didn't go to the right place, that one place where she could have been. I will always wonder what she went through and where she was during those 2 1/2 week.
Thanks for reading my story. Any words of comfort will be appreciated.
Cathy