One small cat
changes coming home to an empty house
to coming home.
~~ Pam Brown
I don't talk about it much, but shared a bit on Facebook. A few weeks ago, my cat, Pandora, breathed her last. She was a gorgeous seal-point Himalayan with vivid blue eyes. I was slave to that fluffy miss for 19 years.
When I first saw her, I was at my vet's office. I glanced over and saw little balls of fur in a cage with a beautiful Persian mama. The receptionist said, "Oh my yes, would you like to buy one? The owner is a breeder. Part of her property was damaged in a fire, and she doesn't want these sweethearts disturbed by all the reconstruction. They're 5 weeks old." I wasn't shopping for a kitten. My husband wasn't exactly going to be thrilled with a new addition. The other kittens were mewing and tumbling around. But Pandora was sitting there, slightly apart, just gazing at me with a slight tilt to her tiny head, like, well? All rational thought melted away.
She was my companion for 19 years. I have to smile, remembering. She was MY cat. Pandora merely tolerated my husband. She reacted to the rest of family and friends like be gone with you! My brother used to say she was the prettiest cat he'd ever seen...and also the meanest. My small granddaughter would try to pet her, then run to me and say "Mean kitty!" She wasn't mean, she was just threateningly vocal if disturbed.
Pandora would let me pick her up, scoop her in and out of the carrier for vet time, take her on the deck and cradle her to my shoulder so she could twitter back at birds. And of course, cater to her every need and pet her endlessly, telling her what a gorgeous girl she was. Cats DO preen. :) She was content being near me but not a lap kitty; it wasn't her thing. Imagine the poignancy, of her last day, when she wanted me to hold her in my arms. She was in the final stage of renal failure and we knew it was a matter of time. That knowledge never makes it easier. I held my little friend until her bluer than blue eyes glazed over and her heart beat no more. I'd been strong and comforting for her because she needed me. Then, I was finally able to cry.
We have a sweet little rescue dog, and the parade of family and friends. But my home still feels empty without her. Really, it isn't my home - it's my heart.
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