Our Kizzy Cat - in Memoriam

Our  Kizzy’s real name when we got him from the animal shelter was Kismet. Which means destiny or fate.  They had found him originally by the side of the road and picked him up.

He had already been returned once to the shelter – needed too much love the two men who took him had said.  Imagine. How can anyone or any animal need too much love.

Kizzy was a big Tuxedo cat.  With an offside white splotch on his mouth. When we adopted him we also had another very much loved cat – a small Siamese named Tempo.

Tempo was the top cat in the household until he died at age 18 about 10 years ago. The two of them were never exactly “fond” of each other but they accepted each other and occasionally would sleep together. Poor Kizzy was relegated to the foot of our bed because Tempo already owned the space between us just below the pillows.

After Tempo died and was buried in our yard, Kizzy took over.  He kind of demanded that we not get another cat and so we agreed.  He owned us now.

Our cats have always been indoor cats and have never traveled with us; we have always found a sitter who got to know them and love them too. Kizzy was no exception; he was always here when we got home – whether from a long, difficult day at work – or a trip.  Always running to the door, meowing with pleasure, so happy to see us again.  Asking to be picked up and held and petted.  And of course – fed.  Kizzy was very obvious with his “feed me” meow.

Two years ago our rather overweight cat began to lose weight.  Slowly. He stopped overeating. The vet (and we agreed) said older cats slow down this way. But then he developed a big lump on his side which lab tests couldn’t exactly identify.  The vet said it was likely a form of cancer which could mask itself in tests.

Kizzy survived our usual summer teaching months in Prague – here at home.  For a month with just Frank here and then for another month with the cat sitter.  It was his fifth year of this and we figured he knew we always came back.  And we did.  But Kiz was obviously failing.  We tried some digestive enzymes the vet recommended which seemed to help -- but slowly, our wonderful big cat was fading away.

This morning we came downstairs and he couldn’t move. Although he had eaten and been walking around when we went to bed.  The vet said later he probably had a stroke.  So we sat with him until the vet’s office opened and then had to call and take him on his final trip.

Tempo died at home ten years ago.  We cried and said our goodbyes and then buried him in the yard. Other cats died other ways. But we ourselves had never before had to take a beloved pet to the vet to be put to sleep.

It was horrible.  It IS horrible.  And yet so much kinder than what we do to our loved humans. Keep them barely breathing on intravenous lines hooked up to machines in cold hospital rooms.  Or the reverse – call in the hospice folks who say matter-of-factly your loved one is going to die and let’s just sit around and wait for it to happen.

Our wonderful cat was in our arms until the vet gave him something to put him to sleep.  We were there, petting him and talking to him as he fell asleep.  We kept petting him until the vet was able to inject the overdose of anesthesia which put him into his final, forever sleep.

And then we came home to an empty house.  And put all his cat things away.

His photo is on our mobile phones. And computers. And his spirit is everywhere we look. He was our special buddy, our wonderful friend and companion.  A cat with so much love he even lavished it on strangers who came over for dinner.  If you didn’t like cats you were plain out of luck around Kizzy.  He was determined to be liked.

Kizzy died about 8:30 this morning, September 27, 2012. There will be no big black and white cat to demand his dinner tonight.   Or to sleep in our bed.  Or on the rug outside the bedroom door when we stay in bed too long for him.  The cat dishes are washed and put away, his beds and special rug and toys – gone.  The litter box is empty – waiting for its next user.

Oh yes –there will be other cats in this house eventually; we can’t live in it alone. But not for awhile.

We are in mourning for our wonderful little friend. 

Goodbye Kizzycat. 

We will always love and remember you.

We hope you have crossed the rainbow bridge into a well-fed forever.