Kewpie the cat died at home and I was heartbroken.
The last night she did not come up to sleep on my bed as she usually did. I found her the next morning sprawled on the kitchen floor.
She had been taking thyroid medicine to keep her vital organs going. She was 18 years, nine months and 20 days in age. She appeared to be appreciating life right up to the end as she asked to go outside to sleep on the grass on sunny days and took part in her daily rituals.
She was a gentle, quiet cat, self-contained in many ways. Yet she liked to be social as she usually showed up to be around people and would often fall into a contented sleep in their presence.
She could communicate very well. Scientists claim that cats can modulate their meows to have 50 different sounds, and Kewpie conveyed many sounds as I studied her cat language as best as I could.
For instance, she could convey how she wanted to come and go, when mealtime came around, when she wished to be alone, and when she wished to be petted.
Scientists also claim that cats have clever body language in which 60 gestures can convey meaning to humans. Most of the gestures Kewpie showed were mild, affectionate gestures, but at times she would show her predator side when she was hunting outside in her younger days.
If she were not interested in something that a human found interesting, she would make her attitude known.
I have a list of adjectives which describe Kewpie, a beautiful white-furred cat that include affectionate, sweet natured, intelligent, responsive, independent, sociable, solitary, peaceful and confident.
Kewpie was a wonderful companion. I remember how she liked the heat from the wood stove and would spend time lying on a favourite mat in front of the wood stove. I will miss seeing her there this autumn and winter.
I wrote the following poem about Kewpie:
Sweet Kewpie died last night
A gentle cat with fur all white
Stretched on the floor, a painful sight
Seen dimly in the dawning light.
The lonely house, her presence gone
Everywhere a stillness. She is gone.
No more padding feet across the floor
No soft meows often heard before
Her joyous purrs now nevermore
Her lovely face is seen no more.
Kewpie, I will remember you
A cat so lovely, wise and true
You taught me loving values, too
It is very sad to say adieu.
I was amazed at the caring attitude of staff at the Truro Veterinary Hospital when they heard of Kewpies death. They sent me the following card with five notes from staff:
1. The staff wishes to extend our sincere heartfelt sympathy in the recent loss of your cat, Kewpie. We know that Kewpie was a special member of your family and will be missed by everyone that knew her. In memory of Kewpie, a contribution has been made in a fund we have organized for injured and abandoned animals.
2. Sorry for your loss.
3. You have given Kewpie the best she could ask for. So sorry for your loss.
4. I am so sorry for your loss. I know Kewpie was a special member of your household for many years. Cherish her memories and she will live on in your hearts forever.
5. Kewpie will always live on in your heart. May the wonderful memories she gave you with her love help heal your hearts.
This wonderful card from the Truro Veterinary Hospital helped us very much in the grieving for the loss of dear Kewpie.
Fortunately, many people today respect and love cats. Cats are a wonderful asset to our lives. Politicians with their bylaws about pets need to be often reminded of this reality.