Smitty

A sad day for me... my cat died. It wasn't sudden. Smitty was an old cat-- estimated to be around 16 or 17 years old. But still, we've been together a long time. I rescued him from the Idaho Humane Society back in 1995. He was "Pet of the Week" on the 5pm newscast I produced. On the set, he was such a mellow, docile cat...hiding his face in the anchor's arm, I thought what a sweet cat. That was on Friday. On Sunday I decided to see if he was still at the pound. My first clue should have been that the pound didn't have a very clear history on him... his kennel card only saying that he'd been adopted out but then returned after just a day. I brought him home to my apartment, where he promptly climbed to the top of the kitchen cabinets. When I tried to give him the medicine the shelter gave me, it was quite the battle. My neighbors scoffed at my fearfulness of the cat and the way he seemed to stalk me. They had three cats themselves. But they changed their minds after taking care of him when I had to go out of town.

Oh Smitty. He had quite the reputation. I could get friends to cat sit for him-- once. No one would do it a second time. When we made the journey from Boise to Seattle 11 years ago, he meowed (howled) nearly the whole way and that included going the long way through Portland.

He broke a lot of stuff-- pushing glasses, dishes, miscellaneous items off of tables and shelves. He liked being petted, but only for so long before lashing out to nip at you when he'd had enough. There was the time we suspect he ate the fish from the fish tank that Tyler had put in a bowl while he cleaned the tank. Smitty would go crazy for the water from tuna and canned chicken cans. Although when he got older he would promptly vomit up the water, making us impose a ban on that treat.

He wasn't fond of children, despite living with two of them. Like many children, ours were very intrigued and curious about this furry little creature who roamed about the house at will, could escape through a curious little door in the hall and would bite or nip with very little warning. CSR learned his cat manners early on, RTR was still learning. One sign that the end was near for Smitty was his lower tolerance for letting baby fingers "pat" him or give his fur a tug.

We knew the end was coming for several months-- changes in his activity level, weight, eating habits-- but it still catches you by surprise. On Sunday, we realized it was very close. I was alarmed when I came home to find him in the front yard, very still. Later on, he was among the ferns on the shady side of the house. I picked him up at one point and couldn't believe how light he was-- this one time nearly 20 pound cat, now so feathery light. He had stopped eating and drinking. By Monday, he just would move from place to place and meow softly, not in his usual "voice." I worried he was in pain and suffering. What to do? Let nature take its course? What would that look like? Would it be messy? Would it be alarming to me, to our five year old son?

I found it's a delicate balance between sensitivity and practicality. Euthanasia at our local vet's office would run $100-$200. Going to the county shelter involved driving to Kent and a much smaller fee. But still driving to Kent and back. I'm lucky to have such a terrific husband. Tyler said he would handle it, getting off work early and taking Smitty wherever I decided. As for how it would all end... I got off easy I guess. We came home from running errands this afternoon, and Smitty was gone. His body on the baby's bedroom floor. Since Tyler was home, he was able to take him without the kids knowing what was going on. I told CSR that Papa was going to help Smitty. That the cat was old and that his body didn't work very well, that he was dying and wouldn't be here anymore. CSR said he would miss Smitty and that Smitty would miss us. I told him that I was sad, that I had Smitty for a long time, even before I moved to Seattle. He also suggested we could get another cat or maybe a dog to cheer us up. He was a cat with a lot of character, known far and wide for his temperament and antics. While frustrated by the way he would relentlessly jump onto the table in search of tasty remnants of a meal, he was very special to me. I come to the end of this, with tears and a sloppy runny nose, saddened by the loss and surprised by it too.