We had to say goodbye to our dear Wotsit yesterday, making the difficult decision to let her cross the Rainbow Bridge. It was a shock, because the mystery illness/internal problems appeared so suddenly. But with no other options, we had to let her go.
Years ago she had shown up, pregnant, with another feral cat we dubbed Gary, who seemed to be taking care of her. She had those three kittens in our yard, with one apparently lost to a hawk.
We took in her daughter, Marmi, and a friend adopted her son, Harry.
Unfortunately we were not able to trap Wotsit before she was pregnant again, but this time she did not stray. Gary had disappeared, and perhaps she thought it was best to stay put.
With the help of Stray Cat Blues, we trapped Wotsit and her kittens were quickly adopted out by the cat rescue.
We brought Wotsit back after her spay, setting up an outside shelter and figuring she would be our outside cat if she decided to stay.
She had other ideas. She would sit on a chair on our deck and cry and cry. So we decided to try to bring her inside. It took a few days, but she settled in. She was now an indoor-only cat. She never totally lost that "flight" instinct from her feral days, but she also would sit on our laps and loved to be petted. And she got along with our other cats so well.
It was very easy to love her.
I have a few other senior cats -- we guessed that Wotsit was probably around 10 years old by now -- with health problems that are being monitored, but Wotsit always was healthy. So losing her was very tough.
Here are a few photos of this wonderful kitty:
Daughter Marmi and Wotsit under the Christmas tree.
Taking it easy...
Sweet girl...
Although Wotsit's actual daughter Marmi lives here, several years ago Wotsit become the adoptive mom to Shel, after Shel's mom Beatrice died of cancer. Shel generally was close by Wotsit, choosing to follow her around and snuggle with her. Wotsit was just fine with that. And they didn't care that Shel -- who turns 14 this summer -- actually is older than Wotsit.
In a pile of cats -- sleeping on Domino, with Shel next to her.
Wotsit gets groomed by daughter Marmi, with adopted daughter Shel close by.
Sleeping with Marmi and Shel...
Chilling with Marmi and Domino.
At the hospital, before the heart-wrenching goodbye...
Goodbye, sweet Wotsit. We are so glad you decided we could be your family. We'll never forget you.
Another sad week. We had to say goodbye to our beloved cat, Argyle, on Wednesday.
Ever since the end of November, I could see a change in this regal guy.
He had started to lose weight and just didn't seem himself.
With the Christmas tree in place, he took to spending most of his time under it.
At first I thought perhaps he was still mourning the loss of his "brother," Archibald, who had lost his battle with a long illness on Nov. 1.
He and Archi had shown up at our door on the snowy morning of Nov. 2, 2002. Argyle was about five months old, Archi about two months. So they had been with us, and together, for most of their lives.
But tests showed something more was amiss than mourning.
Different medicines were tried, tests run, X-rays taken. But the decline continued.
On Wednesday morning it was obvious his battle had more than taken its toll. The veterinarian helped him cross the Rainbow Bridge and again our hearts were broken.
Argyle always had a manner about him that made me think he should be sporting a smoking jacket, with a glass of bourbon within reach...
Siblings can be a pain!
Argyle and Archibald ... they had both hit their 14th birthdays in 2016. Who knew they would leave this world to meet in the next so close to each other...
I always loved his striking orange markings. It's one reason he was given the name Argyle, because of his awesome appearance.
Argyle is on the left, with Domino in the middle and Marmi on the right.
Argyle on the right, Grim on the left. Cute pair!
Recent photos of this great guy...
Argyle under the Christmas tree, just a month ago...
Miss you, Argyle. Hope you and Archi are curled up together, reunited again.
Archibald, also known as Archi and Archibald MacLeish, crossed the Rainbow Bridge on Nov. 1.
He had been in somewhat failing health for a good part of this year, and things took an awful turn on Tuesday morning.
The decision that we had been dreading making was basically made for us.
We could no longer put off helping him make this journey.
Archi had shown up at our house with his "brother," Argyle, on a snowy Nov. 2 morning 14 years ago. He was about 2 months old and the veterinarian figured that Argyle was about 5 months old. We put up posters and tried to find their owners, since they obviously had been house cats, but to no avail.
So they became part of our family.
Archi was always a small cat, never weighing more than 7 pounds. One of the vets said he was the "cheetah" of our family.
But his illness robbed him of even more weight and his decline was difficult to watch.
This is Trick. She had arrived at our doorstep about a month before Archibald and Argyle did. She actually became Archi's mom, as apparently he needed a mom and she needed a kitten. Even though she was only about five months older, she took on the role like a champ, even "nursing" him. Our veterinarian said it wouldn't harm either one, and when she was finished with the role she would let Archi know. She is still with us, as is his Argyle, shown at the left below with Archi curled up next to him.
I know his suffering is over, and I'm sure he's frolicking with our other kitties who have crossed over.
Be well, Archi. We'll see you again one day...
Our sweet Edward crossed the Rainbow Bridge this week, after more than a year-long fight against an illness that robbed him of his stature, his strength and quality of life.
Seizures started to shake him, and although medicine controlled them, they could not combat what was causing them.
Edward, a gentle giant in his prime, in the end was reduced to less than half his "fighting weight."
He was always a handsome guy, with an appearance and size of a Maine Coon cat, but we never knew exactly his background. He was one of four kittens born in our yard 13 years ago next month, and MomCat, as we called his mom, was extremely feral. Although we were able to trap her and have her spayed, we could never tame her. We fed her and provided outdoor shelter for her for a few years before she simply disappeared.
Ed loved a good stretch -- and a good curl-up in the bathroom sink.
And then one day a few years ago, a straggly-looking cat appeared. She was skinny, missing patches of fur and her ears were a mess. We named her Disaster, our veterinarian provided great medical care -- and eventually diagnosed her with lupus -- and it was no time until Disaster and Edward were inseparable.
What a true handsome gentleman Edward was!
A photo just a few weeks ago...
Sunning himself early this week...
With Disaster on his last day, Thursday. He was able to snuggle with her, soak in the sun and enjoy the warm breezes.
We're keeping a close eye on Disaster, since the two were so closely bonded. We know Edward will be waiting for her at the Rainbow Bridge. We just hope we have Disaster for many more years... RIP Edward.
