Things I Think About - Time of Your Life
I said goodbye to Jhansi yesterday.
She was diagnosed with kidney disease in late May and was quickly approaching 16 years old. We had been watching her appetite all summer, and Tuesday night it became apparent that she had gotten too weak to move around much. I stayed up with her most of the night and took her into the vet the next morning.
She was a lovely and absolutely ridiculous cat.
I got her the winter of 1998, six months after moving to the Twin Cities on my own. I worked as a waitress at the time, and one of my coworkers was looking for a home for her. I agreed to take her sight unseen. He brought her into work, and I rendezvoused with them and then took her straight home.
When I met her, I discovered she was a black and white long hair, very friendly, and not so bright... She was about six months old at the time and appeared to have learned most of her behavior from the dogs she had been living with before me. There were many ways in which she really wasn't very familiar with how to act like a cat...
She was a love slut with an amazing purr. She could be oblivious to anything else going on around her as long as she was getting pets. And pets were such an exciting thing that she had a hard time sitting still for them. Demanding and restless was her power combo where affection was concerned.
Of her mannerisms, her two most endearing features (aside from her motorboat purr) revolved around demanding affection. When she was young, all you had to do was hold out your hand and she would run over and pet herself with it. If you were too busy or otherwise occupied, sometimes she would come sit next to you and place a paw on your arm. Her way of saying "I'm here, waiting patiently for love and attention."
She was also very talented at being underfoot or in the way in awkward moments. She liked to run in front of you as you were crossing a room, then make a horrific noise if you inevitably stepped on her in the process.
I got her at a time when my life was in flux and at its most chaotic. She spent a summer living in the Ren Fest costume shop and a trailer in the campsite with me, when Charlotte and I ran the costume shop that year. She spent a couple years with me at my apartment in Iowa, when I went back to school to finish my theatre degree... Not to mention all the transitional spaces in between.
At one point before returning to school, she and I were staying in a friend's parents' basement for a few months. And she found her first mouse. She had the mouse sitting in the doorway of one of the rooms and would bat at it any time it moved, essentially forcing it to just sit there. It was obvious she had no clue what came next, so I went and grabbed my friend's dad. He came down, picked up the mouse by the tail, threw it in the toilet and flushed it down.
For years after that, any time Jhansi was done batting around a toy, she would then leave it in her water dish. My favorite was the day I discovered a red blow pop in her water dish, slowly dyeing the water red to match.
When I was living alone, she would sleep at the foot of my bed every night. She'd start by laying next to me first for pets, and when she was satisfied she'd move down to the bottom of the bed where I found her the next morning.
Early on, there were a couple years where I was between homes. Especially around the time I was finishing up school, had given up my apartment and was at a costume internship in DC. She stayed with other people for a year or so and I retrieved her again when I was back in a more permanent situation.
She was a bit neurotic at times, and I fear I may have added to that by leaving her with other people for stretches of time, and alone in our apartment for a few days at a time when I was in college, over weekends and the like. Most cats are pretty good at rolling with absences like that, but Jhansi was a bit more needy and dog-like in that way.
As a long hair, it didn't take her long to develop matting problems. Getting her shaved in the spring became a tradition, and we noted that anytime we went on vacation for a stretch of time, her mats would be significantly worse upon returning home. She wasn't a big fan of grooming herself, and I'm pretty sure that she got a bit depressive and groomed herself even less if we weren't around.
But she adjusted well to the changes of the more recent years. In fact, when moving into TJ's apartment with Jez (his cat) eight years ago, she was perfectly calm while Jez freaked out about the invader. We've moved homes twice since then, and every time Jhansi was fine as long as she was with her people.
She was a bit standoffish when we first brought the baby home a year ago, but within a couple weeks, she was back to her oblivious need for pets. She was happy to lay down next to (also on) the baby as long as she was also getting pets, and sometimes Ceilidh would even pet her absentmindedly while nursing, which was a fascinating and surreal thing to witness.
While all of these things are things I will remember about that silly, pretty cat, I will mostly remember that she was there with me during the hardest, loneliest and most painful parts of my life. We had fifteen years together. The first seven were hella messy, and she was there with me as I worked on healing over the last eight of them.
That ridiculous, awkward, lovely and affectionate cat stuck out the scariest parts of my life with me, and no matter what dark hour I might have been stuck in at the moment, all she wanted was pets and to walk around my lap while getting them.
Thank you Jhansi. I needed your unconditional love. I needed your company. Thank you for sharing that journey with me. Thank you for all your love and for your willingness to accept new things. Thank you for sticking with me and loving me anyway. I will miss you immensely.
The following song played in the waiting room at the vet yesterday morning. I tearfully acknowledge how bizarrely apt it is, and that I guess you and I have a song, little cat. One of many ways I will be reminded of you:
Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time
It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right,
I hope you had the time of your life.
So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it's worth it was worth all the while
It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right,
I hope you had the time of your life.
She was diagnosed with kidney disease in late May and was quickly approaching 16 years old. We had been watching her appetite all summer, and Tuesday night it became apparent that she had gotten too weak to move around much. I stayed up with her most of the night and took her into the vet the next morning.
She was a lovely and absolutely ridiculous cat.
I got her the winter of 1998, six months after moving to the Twin Cities on my own. I worked as a waitress at the time, and one of my coworkers was looking for a home for her. I agreed to take her sight unseen. He brought her into work, and I rendezvoused with them and then took her straight home.
When I met her, I discovered she was a black and white long hair, very friendly, and not so bright... She was about six months old at the time and appeared to have learned most of her behavior from the dogs she had been living with before me. There were many ways in which she really wasn't very familiar with how to act like a cat...
She was a love slut with an amazing purr. She could be oblivious to anything else going on around her as long as she was getting pets. And pets were such an exciting thing that she had a hard time sitting still for them. Demanding and restless was her power combo where affection was concerned.
Of her mannerisms, her two most endearing features (aside from her motorboat purr) revolved around demanding affection. When she was young, all you had to do was hold out your hand and she would run over and pet herself with it. If you were too busy or otherwise occupied, sometimes she would come sit next to you and place a paw on your arm. Her way of saying "I'm here, waiting patiently for love and attention."
She was also very talented at being underfoot or in the way in awkward moments. She liked to run in front of you as you were crossing a room, then make a horrific noise if you inevitably stepped on her in the process.
I got her at a time when my life was in flux and at its most chaotic. She spent a summer living in the Ren Fest costume shop and a trailer in the campsite with me, when Charlotte and I ran the costume shop that year. She spent a couple years with me at my apartment in Iowa, when I went back to school to finish my theatre degree... Not to mention all the transitional spaces in between.
At one point before returning to school, she and I were staying in a friend's parents' basement for a few months. And she found her first mouse. She had the mouse sitting in the doorway of one of the rooms and would bat at it any time it moved, essentially forcing it to just sit there. It was obvious she had no clue what came next, so I went and grabbed my friend's dad. He came down, picked up the mouse by the tail, threw it in the toilet and flushed it down.
For years after that, any time Jhansi was done batting around a toy, she would then leave it in her water dish. My favorite was the day I discovered a red blow pop in her water dish, slowly dyeing the water red to match.
When I was living alone, she would sleep at the foot of my bed every night. She'd start by laying next to me first for pets, and when she was satisfied she'd move down to the bottom of the bed where I found her the next morning.
Early on, there were a couple years where I was between homes. Especially around the time I was finishing up school, had given up my apartment and was at a costume internship in DC. She stayed with other people for a year or so and I retrieved her again when I was back in a more permanent situation.
She was a bit neurotic at times, and I fear I may have added to that by leaving her with other people for stretches of time, and alone in our apartment for a few days at a time when I was in college, over weekends and the like. Most cats are pretty good at rolling with absences like that, but Jhansi was a bit more needy and dog-like in that way.
As a long hair, it didn't take her long to develop matting problems. Getting her shaved in the spring became a tradition, and we noted that anytime we went on vacation for a stretch of time, her mats would be significantly worse upon returning home. She wasn't a big fan of grooming herself, and I'm pretty sure that she got a bit depressive and groomed herself even less if we weren't around.
But she adjusted well to the changes of the more recent years. In fact, when moving into TJ's apartment with Jez (his cat) eight years ago, she was perfectly calm while Jez freaked out about the invader. We've moved homes twice since then, and every time Jhansi was fine as long as she was with her people.
She was a bit standoffish when we first brought the baby home a year ago, but within a couple weeks, she was back to her oblivious need for pets. She was happy to lay down next to (also on) the baby as long as she was also getting pets, and sometimes Ceilidh would even pet her absentmindedly while nursing, which was a fascinating and surreal thing to witness.
While all of these things are things I will remember about that silly, pretty cat, I will mostly remember that she was there with me during the hardest, loneliest and most painful parts of my life. We had fifteen years together. The first seven were hella messy, and she was there with me as I worked on healing over the last eight of them.
That ridiculous, awkward, lovely and affectionate cat stuck out the scariest parts of my life with me, and no matter what dark hour I might have been stuck in at the moment, all she wanted was pets and to walk around my lap while getting them.
Thank you Jhansi. I needed your unconditional love. I needed your company. Thank you for sharing that journey with me. Thank you for all your love and for your willingness to accept new things. Thank you for sticking with me and loving me anyway. I will miss you immensely.
The following song played in the waiting room at the vet yesterday morning. I tearfully acknowledge how bizarrely apt it is, and that I guess you and I have a song, little cat. One of many ways I will be reminded of you:
Another turning point, a fork stuck in the road
Time grabs you by the wrist, directs you where to go
So make the best of this test, and don't ask why
It's not a question, but a lesson learned in time
It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right,
I hope you had the time of your life.
So take the photographs, and still frames in your mind
Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial
For what it's worth it was worth all the while
It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right,
I hope you had the time of your life.