Saying goodbye

We put our cat to sleep the day after Mother's Day. Rowena was almost 19 years old and had multiple health problems, but it doesn’t change the silence, the lack of presence. That small, elderly cat had a big presence in our lives, especially towards the end. She became increasingly garrulous as she aged; each entry to a room was preceded by a series of meows, almost like a little old lady muttering and talking to herself. We think she also had dementia which caused her to caterwaul, an unearthly howl for no apparent reason, always when she was apart from us. Rick and I were her people, and despite Rick being the one to clean her litter box and administer her insulin shot, I was the number one human. Towards the end, she followed me around constantly, demanding attention.  The next morning I got up and went to the bathroom unaccompanied for the first time in months.

The euthanasia itself was calm and respectful. Our vet has a special room with a couch and soft “spa” music. We took her favorite blanket for her to lay on, and I rubbed her neck fur, in her favorite spot, while she became unconscious. Once she was out, the vet administered the final medication, and she was gone almost immediately. The vet gave me a hug before we left; she has treated Rowena since she was a kitten and this is the third cat she has euthanized for us. We went home to the quiet house and began the process of putting away her dishes and litter box and vacuuming her hair off the couch. I spent some time making a tribute on Facebook so I wouldn’t have to let everyone know separately.

I've have cats all my life. My mother had no time for dogs but she always had a soft spot for cats. From the time I was about 6, we always had a cat in the house-we never went looking for them, they would just arrive in our lives. They have all been different, distinct personalities. Our son has inherited the cat genes-he has always had a cat or two, whether sharing a house in college or cohabitating with the women he married. In fact, when he got divorced from his first wife, they split custody of the kids but he kept her cat! 

Rowena was a pale ginger cat with big green eyes. She was gentle, affectionate (to us) and not particularly bright. I called her my blonde. She hated the kids and would bolt for the basement when she heard the door open. We knew she was getting old when she stopped bothering about who came over. We adopted her with another cat from the same rescue, a Maine Coon mix we named Minerva. Minerva was frighteningly intelligent and death to all rodents. Sadly, she died of a possible brain tumor when she was only 8, leaving Rowena as an only cat for over 10 years. I took a lot of pictures of her, mostly against her will; she was one of a kind and we'll miss her!