My lovely Linda left me recently, my beautiful, sweet, little Linda, as I called her. She was about 20 years old but I hoped she would live longer. I miss her. I love her so much. She amazed me with her strength and fortitude in overcoming several life-threatening ailments over her life. Mostly, with the help of holistic treatment via consultation with a trained veterinarian. Over the last year, she became bonier and more frail, but was eating well, though wasn’t able to absorb food well. Supplements to help with this, and with hydration, gave her diarrhea. She was no longer able to jump up on the refrigerator, didn’t sit in the window above the couch in summer like she used to, but she could still jump, on the bed or the closet shelf, where she was spending time in too much, to my dismay. She didn’t look out windows as much, wasn’t grooming as meticulously as she used to - there were signs that she was nearing the end, and I would periodically check to make sure she was breathing. In November, I had a consultation with Gail at Brighthaven, a wonderful animal hospice, so I would be prepared and not devastated when it happened; and bought one of her books. But when Linda left me two weeks ago exactly, I was not expecting it, the way it happened, and was in shock. At least she passed away at home, and not while waiting to see the vet that day; I’m relieved she didn’t leave me when I was working on finding homes for three senior cats whose guardian, my client of ten years, died after a month’s hospitalization, or when I was busy pet-sitting over the Christmas/New Year holidays. . I was there with her, holding her and telling her I love her. That was a blessing.
I tended to her every need, starting most days in the last year or so, with giving her slippery elm before eating (for recent asthma symptoms, which helped), then give her raw food, or a lightly cooked food, for breakfast, with salt substitute in the food and the water, to help with hydration per her vet (subQ fluids were not suggested); methionine to prevent UTI; later in the day she’d get a homeopathic remedy, every day since she was diagnosed with lymphoma. I had to provide her with pumpkin or sweet potato in the food to prevent/treat constipation or diarrhea. I would take my medicine at the same time as Linda and Petunia, twice a day. Mercurius corrosivus resolved the recurring urinary tract problems, thankfully, and also put her in remission. She would often be sitting in the kitchen on the rug looking at me, her way of saying she wanted more food..or fresh food, or a different food, or toppings to make it more appetizing. I cleaned up her vomit (when her stomach was empty she would vomit saliva, sometimes she’d vomit food); urine when she missed the box; poop when she was constipated. It was hard to watch her aging. But I enjoyed every minute taking care of her; it made the bond even stronger. She didn’t have to say”” a word, I knew what she wanted when she sat on the kitchen rug. Linda was not a very vocal cat, like my other three.
And I knew she was content, that she knew I loved her, when she purred as I pet her, or lie next to her. Her purr was beautiful, I even recorded it. Petey, my other cat, liked to sit next to Linda when she was purring. But sometimes her purr was loud, and sounded like she was uncomfortable and trying to soothe herself. Her stomach would rumble alot, sounded like gas; her face would sometimes show her uncomfortableness. When I’d come home, she would, along with the other three, meet me at the door, happy to see me. I picked her up and hugged her, more in the last months of her life.
All this was in the last few years. Prior to these years, Linda was sometimes feisty, like when she didn’t want her nails cut or want to be brushed (her previous “guardian” probably never did), but she was friendly, and was the matriarch to my other three cats till the very last day. She was an amazing jumper as she had a long and thick tail, that was also beautiful - it had a ring of white around it toward the end, and ended in black. Linda appeared to me to be a mix of calico and tabby, but those tufts on her ears may be a Maine Coon trait, I recently realized. Her hair was gorgeous, and had always been so soft, because she would groom herself meticulously, often, before she no longer could. So I had to get the mats out, and brush or comb her; and get sticky food off her, litter stuck between her toes. It was all so worth it to me, though alot of work. Sometimes I’d be tired or stressed, but Linda was my focus, especially after the lymphoma diagnosis. She loved me unconditionally, when I was grumpy or angry, frustrated at something, she knew me so well! She also knew when I accidentally stepped on her beause she would get under my feet lately, that I didn’t do it on purpose - she was wise. Old cats and dogs are so wise, and calm, and wonderful. I wish more people understood this, and would adopt old animals from shelters and rescues.
Even before that, in 2021, when she was about 16, I didn’t know how much time I had left with her so I took her to the Old Growth Forest in Bronx Botanic Garden, and she loved it. Her eyes showed how much she enjoyed being there - it was a natural beautiful place full of very old trees. Linda lie down for awhile taking it in that day. I was so glad to be there with her. Linda walked on the trails with me for awhile, better than some dogs I walk, in a straight line (with harness) which amazed me. We went there two more times, also to Pelham Bay Park, Bronx Park East, Pelham Parkway, and of course, walks in the backyard. Last year, she could not walk as long, so I didn’t force her. It was a wonderful bonding experience taking Linda to the park - she always liked to go outside, because her previous “guardian” allowed her to.
I found Linda on the streets of Harlem in 2012, at a time when I needed her. She needed me, and I needed her. She was in front of an abandoned church, and there were bowls of food there. I saw her there several times during the week, so inquired in the apt. building next door if this cat, who was obviously not feral, belonged to someone. Eventually found out that the super moved around the corner and left her there, saying “I want to find her a good home.” When I returned with a rescuer friend, the super was feeding Linda dog food on a pair of jeans! He told me that Linda had kittens, and one time, had a stillborn hanging from her and a woman took her to a vet. (Linda means pretty in Spanish.) It was amazing that my roommate allowed me to bring Linda in because she had visitors who were allergic. Her name was Linda also, maybe that’s why, and her mother loved her, told me that I hit the jackpot. She was indeed sweet and pretty, and would lie on my chest; she seemed appreciative to be in a home.
As I said, she came to me at a crucial time in my life, and it was therapeutic for me. I think this may be why it hit me so hard that she is not with me, at least in body.
I may add to this, but for now, please open your hearts and minds to adopting old animals. Please rescue friendly ones you see in the street, struggling to survive - they may have been abandoned or lost.
