Today we had the vet come out to send Lily on to the Rainbow Bridge.
She had been battling renal failure for quite some time, and she put up a valiant fight. We knew it was not fair to let her continue on, as she had not eaten for the last three days, and we tried EVERY possible temptation. She was steadily getting more frail and gaunt, and very unstable upon standing/walking.
In memory of Lily, I just want to tell anyone who may be reading this that she was a tough old cat; not afraid of ANYthing or anybody!!! The Electrolux??? Not this girl . . . she used to let me vacuum her from head to toe, while the other cats couldn't run and hide quick enough. Mr. Snakey?? (a beanie type realistic snake toy) She would stand her ground and swat, while the other cats would jump back to a safe distance to judge the possible danger.
When she first arrived seven years ago, she initially stayed outside on our front porch where I fed her, as my husband was not keen on cats. One night she was approaching the porch when there was a big, black cat eating her food. Well, she would tolerate none of this, and quick as a flash she chased him all the way across our front yard (about 1 acre) as I yelled "Lily, don't cross the road!!!" because I saw headlights of an approaching car. She was hot on his heels, but she stopped short of crossing the road. He made it across, and needless to say he was never to be seen around "her" porch again!
Lily was our first cat together, and she slowly persuaded my husband to adore cats. She was responsible for turning him into a cat-person. She never demanded anything, but gave so much in return. Little by little, she worked her way into the house and into his heart. She would lay down faithfully up against his side when he was in bed recovering from his chemotherapy treatments. If she was sleeping on her cat tree and he was having an especially difficult day, all he had to do was call her name and she would come from the other end of the house to lay next to and comfort him.
The last few years of her life she had to put up with cataracts, hearing loss and a host of other afflictions known to the elderly, but her sense of smell was still keen, up until the end. Every night when my husband sat down to eat his dinner, she would smell the meat and get down from her cat tree "throne" and sit so lady-like at his feet, every so often putting a soft paw upon his leg so that he would not forget to give her a tidbit. Of course, he always obliged. Two or three was fine with her; she was not greedy.
It has been such a tearful day. We buried her out front where I first encountered her . . . and to think I was afraid of her, because she looked so tough . . . she was little but with a stocky build and a masculine saunter to her stride. Her name derived from first calling her Lil' Cat and then finding out she was female, so we changed it to Lily. We left her collar on, so that God and the RB gang will know her name.
She has had such an immensely positive impact upon our lives . . . I can't begin to explain what she has meant to us. I know I am leaving many things out and what I have written are just some of the highlights of her life with us that come to mind, but I don't want to make this too lengthy. I so admire her strength and fortitude.
It will be very hard for us to go to bed tonight, without her there to kiss goodnight.
We love you so much, Angel. Thank you for enriching our lives. We shall never forget all that you have given, taught and shown to us. God Bless you, Lily.
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