On Friday 1st February my little cat is going to be put down.
She's really old and really ill. She has cancer in her small intestine and is
probably in immense amounts of pain. She made my 2012 bearable and I want to
share her short, sweet story.
On 22nd December 2011 there was a deafening meow at the French
windows at the back of our house. Our neighbours have a troublesome cat so I
ignored it and carried on watching the television. The meow came again and the
cat sounded hurt. I squinted through the windows and could make out a small
shape in the half-darkness. This was definitely not the cat next door. The cat
crept into the light. This cat was a spectrum of colours. Its fur was orange
and brown and white and black. It had a golden face with a snowy white patch
under its chin. It was beautiful.
Initially my mum, brother and I thought that it had strayed and
would soon find its owner again. The cat had a collar but no tag. After three
days of listening to the cat wimper and wail we took it to the vet. She scanned
it for a microchip but it didn't have one. I took a photo of the little cat and
put many posters up around the village. The RSPCA say that you have to leave
posters up for at least 7 days and so during that week we tried our very best
not to get too attached to it knowing that someone could just turn up
on our doorstep and take it away as quickly as it came. In the mean time we
named it Kenneth thinking that it was a boy.
On New Year's Eve someone rang up saying that they thought the cat
could belong to their mother. I was devastated. When I heard the doorbell ring
I thought it was the end of the road for me and this little cat. I carefully
picked it up (it was the most docile and tame cat in the world) and carried it
over to the elderly mother. Immediately she burst into tears. The cat was not
hers. I could empathise with her completely and felt both relieved yet terribly
sorry for this distraught woman.
Days passed and the posters were taken down. My mum could see how
desperately I wanted to keep it. One day my mum's friend who is a vet came over
to see the cat. My mum presented it as Kenneth but we were then informed that
the cat was in fact a 'she' as she was a tortoise shell and all tortoise shells
are female. We had to think up a new name. In the end we decided on Holly
because she was a Christmas cat. The vet noticed that there was
something wrong with her paw. She took a closer look at it and noticed that her
claws had grown so long one had begun to grow into the flesh of her paw. The
vet did an emergency operation on the dining room table. The wound meant that
Holly's paw had to be dipped in salt water to make sure it healed quickly. She
did not flinch or fight once and patiently sat with her front paw dipped in a
bowl. She was a brave cat.
After a couple of weeks we noticed something else that was very
strange. She was constantly hungry. At first we thought her enormous appetite
was just because she was malnourished but as the weeks passed it soon became
evident that this could not be the case. The vet told us that she had a thyroid
problem and that was why she was constantly looking for food. I paid for the
operation to have her thyroid out. The vet told us the operation had gone well
but there were some strange lumps in the thyroid she had had removed. They said
that they could test to see if the lumps were cancerous but this would cost
more money. We had the test done and the lumps were not cancerous. This was a relief.
Of course, because Holly could not wear a cone (the scar was down her neck) we
bought her little baby gloves and attached them to her paws. This was to stop
her scratching. On her back paws she had white gloves with pink stars and on
her front paws she had pink gloves with white spots. Watching her slip and scatter
on our laminated flooring was adorable.
Holly made a quick recovery from her operation and had several
healthy months. Holly used to snuggle up with my mum and me on a Wednesday
night and we'd all watch The Apprentice together. I love stroking her because
her fur is the softest thing I have ever felt. She would eat out of my hand and
jump up onto the sofa and then settle down on my lap. She would lie either in a
tight ball or regally like a sphinx.
On one occasion Holly was getting under my mum's feet in the
kitchen and my shouted 'Sit down!' at her. Immediately Holly sat down. This is
when we discovered her first trick. She can do tricks because somewhere in her
ancestry there is Burmese. You can also tell this by the fact she meows instead
of purring and she has incredibly pointy ears. Her second trick is the fact
that she'll come and nuzzle your hand if you say 'Kiss!' to her. Holly is so
affectionate and likes being picked up and cuddled. Often when I pick her up
she places a paw on my arm and rests her head on my shoulder.
In October we began to notice how arthritic Holly was. Her
movements were deliberate and stiff. She could no longer bring her leg up to clean
herself meaning she had to be brushed most days in order to make sure there
weren't clumps in her fur. We also noticed the edge of her eyes go cloudy and
the vet told us this was cataracts due to old age. She also began to go very
deaf.
In December she became ill
and was often sick or had diarrhoea. Earlier in January she had a round of
steroids but they only worked for a very short amount of time. I realised how
ill she was and it broke my heart. I loathe hearing her strained meows and
although I know that putting her down is the best thing for her I am going to
miss her every single day. Everybody that sees her say that they have never
seen a prettier or gentler cat than Holly.
For just over a year Holly was my little companion. This cat made
me laugh and cry. She made me so happy. She was my responsibility. I believe
she saved my family. She was something to come home to. She was a friend. She was wonderful.
I will love you always, Holly. Forever in my heart.
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nERD
nERD
