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May 23, 2011 It all started over 12 years ago when my son said we needed a kitten to keep our cat company. Frankly, we’d been a “dog” family for years until our younger son brought home a little kitten that he had found. Yet, he insisted that we find another cat to keep the older one company when we worked. We went to the shelter to look for a second cat. It was so sad seeing all the cute kitties in the cages, all meowing for our attention. As I stood looking into the cages, one cat’s paw stretched out of the mesh and touched me, physically and emotionally. It was not a particularly attractive cat either. Just your average domestic shorthair brown tabby. I didn’t want to pick it up, but that paw touching my arm was relentless so I asked the worker to allow me to hold the cat. She opened the cage and handed me this cat. The worker at the shelter told me that she was a stray with no history and they thought she was about 6 months old. I put her to my shoulder and held her like a baby ready to begin the burping process. She put her paws up around my neck and I knew she was mine. We brought her home and began the process of introducing her to our old cat. This new cat, that we called Mitzvah (Jewish word for “good deed”) was our good deed for rescuing a cat from the crowded shelter. Mitzvah grew to be more than a single presence. Her stomach seemed to be expanding quickly and because she hadn’t been spayed yet, I believed that she came to us complete with kitties in her belly. After about two weeks, I held my hand on her belly and felt something move. We took Mitzie, as we called her then, to the vet and he told me what I already knew. Mitzie was going to have kittens and I would not spay her until the kittens were born. A few weeks later, we prepared a spot in our closet for Mitzie to have her kittens and she took complete advantage of the spot. We watch in awe as she delivered four adorable kittens. Two were almost black, one was totally gray and another was a mixture of brown and black. All were nursing except the runt. I worried about the little one’s survival. I bought a tiny bottle that I filled with baby formula and fed her day and night. All kittens were growing nicely including the runt we named Klana (meaning “little” in Jewish). Knowing we could not care for 6 cats and a dog, I advertised in the newspaper for new owners. Several people responded but after my extensive interviewing process, I found no suitable owners. In the end, my son told me that he would take two kittens to join his cat family after he moved into his own apartment with his fiancé. I would keep Mitzvah, the runt and one other of the black kitties. Mitzvah grew into an outstanding cat even though she and my older cat never really got along. I continued to raise Klana with hand feeding even after the other kittens were learning how to eat solid food. When I took Mitzvah to be spayed after her litter, I took all the kittens for a checkup. All were fine except for Klana. I asked the vet if it was possible that Klana was autistic. He said he never heard of a cat being autistic. I later researched the web and found that indeed, on a rare occasion, a cat could be autistic. Klana would never let any one touch her. She would neither look at you when you spoke to her. Her eyes appeared to be glazed over and out of touch with reality. Mitzvah, who shunned her at birth later, became her regular companion. Klana was always found next to her mommy, wherever her mommy lay. She would walk all over Mitzvah literally to find a spot and her mommy was always willing to accept her warmth. About a month ago, Mitzvah began to lose weight. She was always particular about the food we offered her, but never this finicky. We took her to the vet and they said she needed two teeth pulled. After the teeth were pulled, she even refused to eat dry food. Weeks later we took her for a senior check-up and she had lost more weight. Over the next week, she practically ate nothing and I was so worried. Again, we went to the vet because she started to limp and still wasn’t eating. I wanted the doctor to do some tests and x-rays. Tests proved normal, but her one toe was swollen and a sonogram showed she had what appeared to be lymphoma in her intestines. The vet said the swollen toe, a condition, ironically called “lung toe” could indicate that cancer had spread to her lungs. They did a chest X-ray and it appeared that there was a spot on her lungs.We met with the vet to go over our options and there were no good ones offered. At best, with chemo, Mitzie would only live a few months and may then get side effects from the chemo. Drugs to increase her appetite in the past did not work. With extreme pain in my heart, I realized that I had to put her to sleep. The vet agreed and gave her a sedative before the final shot. My husband and I sat with Mitzie while she got groggy. I told her that she had been the BEST pet ever and that I would never forget how much love she gave us. She would come running whenever we walked into the house to greet us. She would stretch her neck and head toward ours whenever we said “kiss”. We always held her like a baby………just like the day she adopted us in the shelter. Our lap was never empty after that. Mitzie was the most loving, incredible cat. Whenever I needed comforting she was there. She never extended her claws, no matter who touched her or how. Now, all I have to remember her are her pictures and a little box of her ashes. Klana is very lonely now too without her mommy. Even if I were to go the shelter again to find a companion for her and me, I know no one could replace Mitzvah. My mitzvah in adopting her from the shelter turned out to be the best good deed I could ever do for myself.
RIP my best friend.
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