The embers have faded; the light has gone out.
This story starts in December 2009. I had just deposited an inheritance cheque from my father's estate and had popped in to the pet store that was next door to the bank. I'd been having problems with the cat from next door spraying my house. Pretty unpleasant stepping our your door and smelling the spray from an unneutered male cat. I'd once bought something called Cat Scat Mats from Lee Valley which had been very effective at a previous house where I had the same problem (why do I attract these whole spraying male cats?). So I entered the pet store hoping to find something similar.
Instead, I found a tortoiseshell cat sitting in a cage in the middle of the store. As I approached, she got up and stretched and rubbed the bars of the cage hoping for a stroke or two from me. I've always liked torties so when I saw that she was a cat available for adoption from the SPCA and not just a kitten mill cat that pet shops like to sell for exorbitant prices, I decided to take her home. Of course, I couldn't actually take her home there and then as she still had to be spayed. Two weeks later, I received the call from the SPCA that Lilith had had her operation and was available to take home.
Okay, okay.....Lilith was a horrible name for her. Instead, she was renamed Ember as the tortoiseshell colouration reminded me of glowing coals. Ember was tucked away in a bedroom until the other two cats got more used to her smell and eventually she was allowed to have the whole run of the house.
And that is when all our lives changed. The red gene in cats tends to make them feisty and Ember had decided that she was going to rule the roost. She smacked the others if they ever dared to get close, she took over favourite sleeping spots and she decided that my lap was the best sleeping spot of all.
I, on the other hand, found her too needy. She was always craving more attention from me but, like the others, I learned to tolerate her presence and we all settled into our new routine.
In June of this year, Ember stopped eating with her usual vigour. I spent countless hours in the grocery store trying to figure out what flavour of food she would like this week. And I spent even more hours at home trying to cajole her into eating. All this was happening while I was in the full throes of bobolink monitoring as well as responding to the Weed Nazis who were insisting that I address the "grass complaint" that had been filed against my property.
In July, Ember went to the vet whereupon it was discovered that she had a heart problem and fluid on her lungs. She was put on a diuretic and heart medication. After a month, she still hadn't improved and last Friday I made the decision to put her down. It was the right decision as Ember had lost the use of one of her front legs, she was still having difficulty breathing and she was quite thin despite having a good appetite. That doesn't mean that I did not shed copious tears. Despite the fact that we had never really bonded, she was a part of my family and would be missed.
Having said that, the original two cats are in their glory. They have reclaimed their favourite sleeping spots, they've stopped having to sneak around corners to avoid being smacked, they have regained the personalities they had before Ember came into the household.
It's been just over a week since her last day. I still occasionally look out into the porch to see if she is there sleeping. I expect her to come out from under the table in the kitchen when she is hungry. When one of the other cats stomps all over my lap with her pebble toes, I think of Ember who could sneak onto my lap and settle down without my ever even noticing. She would lean against my back when I sat at the computer, she loved to run and bounce off the walls to turn a corner and she terrorized the turkey feather tied to the stair railing. And on that last day, during that last hour, when the vet was waiting for the technician to return from lunch, Ember and I sat in the examining room and she purred for me one last time. She let me scritch her head and give her a tummy rub, both of which she had so liked me to do but couldn't tolerate while she was sick. And her little orange toes kneaded the air one last time.
It was over in a moment
In a moment
It was done.
With a prick of the skin,
A push of the finger,
The spark was diminished
The life force was drained
A shift of position
One last weary sigh
The cold crept in even deeper
Her heart or mine
Your life or not
The memory still lingers
As I say good-bye
It was over in a moment.
In a moment
She was gone.
Ember, I hope you are running the fields in some happy place.
Bye bye baby girl.
