My sister's little cat, Topper, died on Sunday. He lived a long life and was very pampered and loved by her, but, like many little creatures, he had a very difficult beginning. Lots of people in cottage country think it's fun to have a cat for the summer, but then they abandon the poor animal when the season is done. Topper's mother probably lived through that scenario. When Rickie's friend, Ted, found Topper, he was living alone under a cottage. He was a tiny kitten with an abscess on his tail and the vet told Rickie it appeared that he had never eaten solid food, and had been living on insects. Rickie had mentioned to Ted that she thought she might like to get a cat, so when Ted found Topper, he thought, "here's a cat for Rickie!" Of course, Rickie had heard that it wasn't necessarily a good idea to take a feral cat into your home, but when she demurred, Ted knew what to say. "Okay, I'll just let him go under the cottage again. He won't be a problem for long." What could she do?
At first, Topper was very frightened of everything and spent a lot of time in Rickie's bathroom, hiding under the sink, but gradually he came to trust her and it didn't take her long before she loved him with all her heart. He was a pretty cat, mostly black with white markings, fluffy, very lively. Early in the morning, he'd get quite frisky and start running around the apartment, leaping up on things with no effort, and yowelling loudly. He travelled out here to the west coast and met our dogs and Orlando, my bird. He came to Saskatchewan when my mother was still alive, and had a violent encounter with a Weyburn cat, in which he fled the scene, leaving Rickie behind to fight off the interloper.
When Carlos came into the picture, they approached each other with a bit of wariness, but Topper had soon won Carlos over, too. Carlos can be gruff, but it's amazing what a small animal can do to an otherwise sensible adult. Carlos liked to tell stories about Topper's antics and tease him a bit (like Mike teases Daisy) and Rickie says he is almost as sad as she is about Topper's death.
Topper was 21 years old when he died. Over the last month, he struggled to walk and finally on the weekend, he wasn't interested in eating, so Rickie knew it was his time. He died peacefully at home, on his cat bed with Rickie and Carlos there.
It is so hard when we lose a pet. We have had this experience with all our dear dogs over the years and this year, we lost my buddy, Orlando, after a lifetime together (he was 30 - a very long life for a cockatiel). They trust us so completely, and love us without question, and then we watch them get old and feeble and sometimes we have to decide what's best for them in the end. People understand, in some ways, what is happening to them as they get old and sick, but our pets just look at us faithfully and trust that we will do our best for them. I remember what Mr. Allison said when he lost his dog. He remembered how enthusiastic Rocky was about everything. How wonderful his dog food tasted! How thrilling it was to go for a walk or fetch a ball (one hundred times)! And he made Mr. Allison think about how wonderful life is, too. And that is their gift to us. One of their gifts. They aren't ever ashamed of themselves. They don't worry about what people think of them. They can't be embarrassed. They are what they are and they will always try to do their best and not be concerned if it doesn't work out. Rickie said, as Topper got older, he wasn't able to jump up on things like he used to. He'd try, but he wouldn't make it. But after suffering defeat with equanimity, he would just sit on the floor and look at the structure that had defeated him and seem to be thinking, "oh well, I'll try later. Maybe I'll make it then."
Death is a part of life, I know, but a very difficult one. We can't really understand how it happens and lots of time it seems terribly unfair and we feel angry or shocked or inconsolable. For me, it seems terrifyingly final. But there is nothing we can do about it. Just like little Topper and like Orlando and Frazier (our dear old dog, who died three years ago), we must enjoy the taste of our food, and the joy of doing our best, and the love of our family, and invest ourselves fully in each moment that we have.
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