We all know the saying – “Cats will be cats.”
No matter how much we tell them they’re not starving when dinner is five minutes late or that they cannot have more treats for the twelfth time today, cats will be cats.
No matter if we’ve already spend twenty minutes entertaining them with a laser or wand toys, cats will be cats.
No matter if we tell them, “NO!” a dozen times, cats will be cats. They will do as they please.
Enter Millie, who embodied that feline persistence with gusto even into her final act.
Tabby’s Place first met Millie as a youngster – energetic and full of spunk – and waved her a happy goodbye when she bounded off to what we assumed was her Forever Home. For 11 years Millie reigned supreme in a home of her own – that is, until unfortunate circumstances catapulted her back into our sanctuary.
Millie was not thrilled about her return and she did not shy away from showing us this. With a hiss from deep within her chest, Millie greeted every other cat she ever met. This is not to say that Millie would cause drama, but that she would warn her feline roommates not to test her patience. While she enjoyed human attention, she also had a limit to how much adoration she would tolerate. Offer her some pets when she was feeling sassy and she was more than likely to offer you her teeth. Millie knew what she wanted, and it was love on her terms and her terms only.
Millie’s body, however, was not as strong as her spirit. When she was returned to us, she had a history of chronic diarrhea that had never been worked up. Unfortunately, we soon learned that she had metastatic GI lymphoma – intestinal cancer that had spread to her lungs and chest. We had no options for treatment but to keep her comfortable for as long as we could.
The most comfortable place for Millie, of course, was in a home – and so she found one again. I took Millie home in June to give her an opportunity to live out her final chapter in comfort. Millie never looked back and, from the moment she pranced out of her carrier, made herself right at home.
- My room became Millie’s –
- My laundry basket of clean clothes, Millie’s
- A pile of blankets I wanted to wash, Millie’s
- The corner of my closet, Millie’s
- My bed, where we snuggled each night as she laid on my chest, Millie’s
- Even my boy Oscar’s nightly bowl of kibble, now Millie’s
Cats like Millie will be cats.
But even as Millie’s attitude remained as sassy as ever, her body began to show the signs of her condition. Her appetite and weight began to wane and this sassy lady had just a little less swagger in her stride. We knew all too soon that it was time to say goodbye when she snubbed even a big bowl of her favorite turkey and cheese treats. In late November, Millie crossed the Rainbow Bridge surrounded by staff who loved her, even in her feistiest moments. She left this world with one last tooth mark imprinted on my hand.
Thank you, Millie, for not just being a cat, but for being my cat.
Sometimes I think the Millies of this world realize what we are offering – not her lost loved home, but love and a home to keep the lost at bay. And they decide we are worthy of their love. Thank you for being worthy of Millie’s love.