Remembering Dolly

I realize it's been several weeks since I've blogged. Some of you know that Dolly, our cat, passed away on Tuesday, May 26 around 3 p.m. after a brave battle with chronic kidney failure. It's been a hard couple of weeks without her, but I think I'm finally ready to write a few thoughts about what happened.

We're so thankful we had a few more months with Dolly after she got really sick really fast during our trip to Florida in March. After a round of antibiotics, she was herself again and stayed that way almost until the end. The last week, I noticed she was losing weight, and then she didn't want to eat. The ulcers in her mouth made it difficult to chew. I finally found a shrimp and crab soft food packet she loved, but the weekend before she passed, she stopped eating that too. I would put dry food in a bowl with some water, and she'd lick the water.



She still enjoyed going outside on the porch and watching the birds, but we knew the end was coming. The Tuesday morning after Memorial Day, we scheduled an appointment with the vet. As this point, Dolly couldn't jump and had trouble walking, so I would lift her up on the bed or into the cat tree. We wanted her to know how much we loved and cared about her. Right before we left for the vet's office, I picked up her and placed her on the bed. Sammie came over on her own and licked and sniffed Dolly's face. I took one last photo of them on the bed together. When we returned from the vet's office, Sammie was laying on the bed where Dolly had been before we left.



Upon seeing her, the vet knew she was severely dehydrated, even though we'd given her fluids twice a day. She also could have been facing heart failure and liver disease. It was time to say good-bye. This was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. The vet, Dr. Lisa Koob, and vet tech were wonderful. Dr. Koob also had tears in her eyes. We all petted Dolly as she went to sleep. Her little tail kept wagging up until the end. I leaned over and kissed her one more time and said good-bye.

We had her cremated and picked up her ashes last week. They put them in a paw-printed tin with her name on it. I placed it on the window seal since Dolly loved looking outside at the birds. The vet's office also took a paw print of her in clay, and we brought it home and baked it so it would harden. We're going to get an urn, but I'm still shopping around.





Sammie definitely misses Dolly. I never realized how much Sammie followed Dolly's cues when it came to eating and being around us. She seems lost, almost confused, about what to do and when. Dolly would always come in the kitchen and loudly meow when she wanted to eat, and Sammie would hear her and also come to the kitchen. Sammie has wanted to spend a lot of time outside on our porch, more than ever before. I think she might expect Dolly to be out there. She is a very loving cat, and I don't know how David and I could have gotten through this without her.



I also don't know what we would have done without wonderful people who've sent their thoughts and prayers. Lisa, who has taken such wonderful care of our girls when we've been out of town, brought flowers and some cake the next day. She's so thoughtful.

We've also received some greatly appreciated cards, e-mails and phone calls from family and friends. These folks know and understand what it's like to lose a pet. Pets are members of the family, and I honestly was closer to Dolly than some members of my own family. It's sad that some people don't understand this connection. Losing a pet has made me even more aware of how much they mean to humans. Even if you don't know what to say when someone loses a pet, it's better to say or write something than nothing at all. I used to not realize this, but now I do.

Below is a poem I found online. I found quite a few out there, but I really like this one. I still cry at times and expect to see Dolly on the bed, or greeting us at the door when we come home, or gently tapping me on my face with her paw in the middle of the night when she wanted to eat. We only had Dolly for six years, but we're very thankful for that time because she taught us how to love and be loved in a very special way. Dolly was one of a kind.

We love and miss you Dolly!



Four Feet in Heaven

Your favorite chair is vacant now...
No eager purrs to greet me.
No softly padded paws to run
Ecstatically to meet me.

No coaxing rubs, no plaintive cry
Will say it's time for feeding.
I've put away your bowl, and all
The things you won't be needing;

But I will miss you little friend,
For I could never measure
The happiness you brought me,
The comfort and the pleasure.

And since God put you here to share
In earthly joy and sorrow;
I'm sure there'll be a place for you
In Heaven's bright tomorrow...

- Alice E. Chase