My Kitty and me.
When Squeaker came into my family’s life, I never would have
predicted that she would become a most cherished companion, a kitty who
accompanied me to the mountains for years, who climbed up in bed with me when
John was out of town and watched movies with me, who listened to my unconscious
talking out loud, who would look squinty eyed at me when she did not approve,
and right to the last week strode into the bedroom at sunup to meow stridently
for her food.
Squeaks had a firm adage, “If you cannot love the one you
want, love the one you’re with.” When I
left her to travel to Tanzania, she first found that Sarah B. was maybe better
than “mother” and grew to love Sarah. I
think that she always looked for other house sitters to be like Sarah, and none
were, except for Chrissy who Squeaks tried to lure away from Chrissy’s own
kitty by demonstrating that even if she was old and tiny and not particularly
playful, that she was much much more loving.
Squeaker came to us at a time when our family needed her. She seemed
quite adept at helping to settle an unsettled household and providing herself
for love when the whole family was dealing with many difficult things. She provided entertainment (WHERE IS THAT
CAT!—only for us hear her meow in one of the dormer drawers where she had
gotten trapped after walking into one of the dormer closets and wandered around
the house the dormer way). Katrina, think "Tick Tock Kitty"... She loved Christmas and for years wrapped
herself in tinsel, drove me crazy as she batted only the breakable ornaments,
and once leapt into the Christmas tree taking it down. She loved to hide behind the Christmas tree
and to drink the nasty Christmas tree water.
She always knew when we were leaving for Africa, in the beginning doing
unspeakable things to our suitcases. She absolutely knew when we were leaving
for the mountains or when we were coming back to Durham, and the difference
between those trips and Africa. Hiding
was one of her favorite things to do and she could lodge herself in just about
anywhere. Even though it was clear that
she liked to travel, liked to be at home, and liked to be in the
mountains—particularly anywhere that I was, she continued the charade of
finding new hiding places right up until this last 6 months. At that point, she must have decided that the
energy involved in finding a new hiding place would be too much, and she
actually liked the travel well enough.
Squeaker had a number of firsts at the end of her life. She killed her first mouse and laid it at my
head only two years ago! I thought it
was Squeaks lying by my head. Oh my. She
determined that Chui, her much younger step-sister, who came to stay was her
mortal enemy and they played war much I think to their delight on a daily
basis.
Squeaker was fortunate to have a great veterinarian Jim
Miller at North Churton Animal Hospital who did the right things by her, always
had helpful suggestions and kept her going for probably years longer than she
should have. “She has small kidneys –
you remember she has small kidneys?”
With his suggestions, I bought her water fountains for home and
mountains, and lots of other things. And
the vet, Dr. Lindsey at Watauga Animal Hospital was kind and gentle and very
sweet at the end.
As much as John is not a cat lover, Squeaks was happy to rub
around him and he to scratch her pretty head as she watched everything we did!
My sweet kitty rest in peace. She came from a rescue site in the middle of
the death of the rest of her cat family, but she went out peacefully with me
reminding her of all of our wonderful adventures.
