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| Name: |
Zoe
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Age: |
Deceased, seventeen years old
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| Gender: |
Female
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Kind: |
Tabby
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Home: |
Cochrane, Alberta, Canada
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Zoe - a.k.a. Nutbar, Zoezoe, Little Girl, Wrig-ged-dy Pig-ge-let, Silly Girl, Kitten, bouncing around like a pinball ...the sweetest little cat I have known.
Zoe grew up on a farm in northern Alberta. Somewhere along the way she lost half an ear to frostbite. She arrived at the Cochrane Humane Society at the age of ten with two other cats - one about 2 years old, and the other a single kitten that she was still nursing.
I was a volunteer with the Humane Society at the time and an email was sent out with a request to foster one of two older kitties who weren't enjoying being at the HS building, new and wonderful though it was. I emailed back and said I would foster one of them. A neighbour of mine worked there and delivered Zoe with all her supplies. She stayed in the bathroom for several days until my other two had a chance to check her out. She then explored my home and made it entirely her own. She moved in; adoption was a mere formality. Yes, I had failed fostering 101! The HS staff were delighted and I had the help of Zoe's honourary "Aunt" in giving her a forever home.
One of my jobs at the HS was feeding the cats and cleaning their boxes. It was never Zoe's turn to come out and play so it wasn't until she was at home that I saw her markings. They were stunningly beautiful! She had a white belly with a stripe of tabby brown crossing it as if her "suit" was being held in place by a belt. She deferred to my oldest cat Oscar but was insanely jealous of Cole and would shove herself in for attention whether Cole was present or not. One of the people who had surrendered her said that she was equal parts playful and a lap cat. How true that was - very often I'd be seated at the desktop computer and she would lie on her left side in my lap with my right hand holding her in place and caressing her. She also loved cheek and head rubs, and would bonk her head against my ankle in affection. When I was away for two weeks once, all three kitties were in the front hall when I opened the door. Zoe squeezed by Oscar and with her eyes closed she came up to me. I patted her and then she ran to the dining room and pounced on the end of her tail several times, a game she always played when she was happy. As I walked down the hallway to my bedroom she came running back to my ankle and did a bonkbonkbonkbonkbonk - really fast!
On April 6th I noticed a wet mark around her mouth as if she'd dipped a little too deep into the water bowl. It was bigger on Friday so I called my vet and took her in. She was due for a future dental cleaning and I thought she might have developed an infection.
The vet examined her mouth and then showed me. "She has a tumour under her tongue," I was told.
I was in shock. The vet rubbed Zoe's cheeks and Zoe looked at her. "And she's such a sweet little girl!"
"What's next?" I said, but I knew. All oral tumours in cats are malignant. Dr. Tara said that surgery could be done but it was tricky as the area contains many many blood vessels. And even after surgery the tumour would return in about a month.
Dr. Tara looked at me and said, "You aren't ready, are you?"
I wasn't, I just wasn't. I was so certain it was something simple and treatable. They gave her an injection of antibiotics and me some prednisone to take home.
Zoe had never been sick in all the years I had had her. A couple of months before she had developed a UTI which was successfully treated. And now this.
She couldn't eat any more. I got syringes and recovery food and used my hand blender to liquefy food and feed her. She had never been pilled so that was impossible - I crushed the prednisone and dissolved it in water, same with the gabapentin. I always felt better seeing her having a good solid nap after the dose.
On April 12th it was time. She wasn't going to get better. Sometimes the saliva around her mouth was darkly tinged with blood, which was heartbreaking to see. I made the appointment and combed her before I took her in - she couldn't even groom herself.
I had a number of minutes alone with Zoe after she was given the sedative. At one point she became her old self - wanting (and getting) cheek and head rubs like crazy, jumping down and bonking her little noggin sideways on my ankle.
Her passing was very peaceful. Because she had never cost me anything in vet care I chose the individual cremation and a special urn for her - the "extra small".
I kept telling her I loved her. I said I was so sorry this had happened. It was no one's fault.
I have no regrets about my decision. I miss her so very much.
Zoe, I love you and miss you. Thank you forever for being in my life.
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