Goodbye

So, following my last post, it might not be a surprise to hear but it fills me with sadness to write…Lotté is no longer with us.

To pick up where I left you last post…

The vet had told us that she was too stressed to force the antibiotics down her so to try to give them to her with food – such as in cream cheese. That Friday night, I made a bowl up of cheddar cheese, cream cheese, chicken and cat treats with her tablets hidden among the cheese in the hope that she might eat something. She hardly glanced at it! She then hid under the bed for the rest of the afternoon. There was no chance were were going to get her to take the antibiotics.

Sometime that evening, she moved out from under our bed and into Callum’s room. Its not unknown for  her to go into Callum’s room but certainly not normal behaviour. A normal evening would be us getting into bed and her settling down on my legs for a bit while I would read my book. She would then get up to have some water then either curl up at the end of the bed by our feet or curled behind my legs otherwise she’d hop up onto the windowsill. It felt sad to not have her on our bed.

Saturday morning, when Callum woke up, I jumped up to go and see her to make sure Callum didn’t see her and start prodding her in some way. He wasn’t near her but he was making quite a racket in his room. She hardly moved. A couple of times she moved from laying to sitting while giving Callum evil looks then would gingerly lay back down again putting her head on her front paws. There was mess everywhere as she was unable to control her bodily fluids and she was sick a couple of times. I  knew she would not be in Callum’s room at that noisy point in time if she could choose not to be so this spoke to me just how poorly she was. She looked in pain, she looked disinterested in everything.

When Stuart got up, we spoke and agreed we should call the vet and started to prepare ourselves for the inevitable decision which we were going to have to make.

The vet agreed we should take her in to see if there was anything they could do for her but no one was hopeful.

To get her into the cat basket, Stuart had to remove the top half and lift her in carefully rather than through the front door. While waiting in the vets she messed herself.

This was what was breaking my heart. For anyone that knows cats, knows how particular they are at cleaning themselves. Certainly, for Lotté, she was meticulous. If you stroked her, within the minute afterwards she would be washing herself again even if she had just done it.  To now be in this undignified state, unable to control her bowel and covered in her own faeces – she couldn’t continue like this, it just wasn’t fair on her.

When we saw the vet, she agreed, she was just existing. It was time to say goodbye. Not sure Callum really understood at that point what was going on but he wouldn’t say goodbye to her but did kiss her on her head.

We had some time alone with her to say goodbye then Stuart took Callum out while I stayed with her while they administered an injection into her liver.

It was so quick. Almost instantly her eyes glazed over then about 20 seconds later the vet confirmed she had gone. Her little life was gone.

It was hard to see but I am glad I was there. Stuart was equally pleased he wasn’t there to see it and I certainly wouldn’t have wanted Callum to see her.

Being as we are in rented accommodation about to move into a house we are buying, we have no where currently to bury her so we decided it was best to get her cremated and we will then bury her ashes in the garden of our new place. I discussed our wishes with the vet, said one last goodbye to Lotté then went to find Stuart.

As you can imagine, I was in tears. I didn’t know where Stuart was so peaked in the waiting room and must have looked a right site. I felt sorry for those people in the waiting room with their pets as they must have been reminded of their pets mortality – I know I would have been. Stuart wasn’t there so I headed outside where I found them both and Stuart broke down when he saw me. There is nothing that hits you in the heart more than a man breaking down in tears except for the awareness sinking in to your 3 year old and him crying out “I want Lotté” while the tears started to fall. It was a heart-breaking scene but then we were heartbroken.

Callum kept up the crying out all the way home (which thankfully wasn’t a long journey, just up the road) and was devastated when we got home and took a lot of comforting. Its quite a difficult thing to try to have to explain to someone so young. I’m still not sure if he fully understands. He has asked a couple of times where she is and then followed up with “Lotté’s hiding”. I’ve told him she is with the stars.

15 years she was in my life. Stuart warmed to her as soon as he met her, 8.5 years ago, and he wouldn’t describe himself previously as being a cat person. She was a member of our family.

My family and friends were saddened by the news too. Lotté loved people and more selfishly loved the strokes and attention she got from everyone. As soon as any visitors arrived (children excluded) she would be there on their laps demanding a stroke and you daren’t stop before she was ready or she’d give you a tap on the hand or nose as if to say “did I say you could stop”. She was also so beautiful it was hard not to love her.

We will all miss her but she will remain in our hearts.

I’ll leave you with some of our favourite photos.

Nine lives are not enough

My little baby is poorly – no not Callum or even Stuart but the furry one, Lotté.

I’d noticed she wasn’t eating and she was having unusual toilet habits (don’t worry, I wont go into detail here). I also noticed her tummy was looking a little swollen so I took her to the vet yesterday. Sure enough, they confirmed there is fluid on her tummy.

They have taken bloods and have eliminated anything to do with her liver so they have taken more to check for feline infections and cancer and have sent off a sample of the fluid in her tummy. She has been sent home for the weekend with antibiotics and hopefully she will make it through the weekend to see what the test results come back as on Monday.

She is 17 so getting on a bit for a cat (some are lucky enough to live in to their 20s but 17 is considered old for a cat). We discovered a couple of years ago that she has an overactive thyroid and heart murmur which she is on medication for already but otherwise has been pretty healthy throughout her life. Even with her thyroid problem, the Vet commented how healthy she was looking and was almost a perfect roll model for a cat with such a problem. She responded well to medication, put on weight, she was still sprightly and well groomed. All good!

So, to now find out she is poorly, and really poorly this time is a shock and very upsetting.

Some may think it is silly to get so emotional over a cat but I question how anyone can detach themselves and not feel emotional about such a thing. Especially a pet that has been in the family for such a long time – she is a member of the family!

We got Lotté when she was just 2 (and I still lived at home with my parents). Although she started as a family cat she was always kind of more my cat. When I moved out of home when I was 17 and my parents moved to Hampshire, she came with me and was my lifeline. She stopped me going insane in those lonely days. At least I had a little ‘being’ to talk to rather than just myself and the walls. She gave me someone to care for.

This was the 3rd of many more homes she has lived in during her years and she has adapted to each one so well and without complaint. She must be one of the worlds most travelled cat.

Lotté and I lived in our little flat in Southend (house 3) for about 9 months then found a new flat back in Rayleigh (house 4) with a flatmate. Despite the lease saying no pets and my new flat being allergic, she still welcomed Lotté in with open arms and adopted her. Unfortunately, she got a little too fond of Lotté and used to kind of bribe her with treats all the time behind my back. Lotté instead used to sleep on her bead (or back) every night instead of mine. Lotté became a little maddam like a spoilt child. I had to have words in the end and my flatmate confessed that she wanted Lotté to love her like an aunt and perhaps spoilt her more than she should. Then my flatmate decide to get her own kitten. Never an easy job introducing an adult cat that is used to getting all the attention and not used to being with other animals to a new playful little kitten and it didn’t go well. It was only a small flat and Lotté found her domain shrinking by the day to avoid the kitten, whereas the kitten just wanted to play with Lotté. If Lotté smelled the kitten on you she’d attack you biting and scratching. What was worse, her new best friend (flatmate) had deserted her for a newer, younger model and had no time for Lotté anymore. It wasn’t fair on her and I wasn’t liking what the change was doing to Lotté or her behaviour so I made the difficult decision to move her to live with my Mum and Dad (house 5).

Not long after, I decided I wanted to buy my own house. I bought a little one bedroom starter home in Leigh-on-Sea (house 6) with a lovely 37ft garden. Apart from one incident where she went missing for a week in the summer when I thought I had lost her for good, she seemed happy enough there. But, I was lonely. My friends were all off in Uni or lived in or close to London. My family were in Hampshire and Dorset. I was struggling to afford an interest only mortgage. I’d split from my boyfriend of 5 years. I loved my little house but, for my sanity, I decided it was time to sell, move to London to be near my friends and to do what young people were supposed to do. I was 21 and felt about 40!

I moved into a flat in Balham with a friend and once again, the lease didn’t accept pets so back she went to live with my parents – who had also moved to a different house (house 7). Then, when my friend moved out to live with his girlfriend and two more friends (a couple) moved in, we agreed to get Lotté back to live with us (house 8). It was too built up and busy outside and we were the top floor flat so she became an indoor only cat which she wasn’t happy with and, in reflection, probably wasn’t fair on her. It was probably quite selfish to have her back with us but I had missed her.

I met Stuart while living in that flat in London and we decided we wanted a place of our own so we moved to a house in Wimbledon, and Lotté came with us (house 9). Now she had a garden (and a pub garden) to explore. Much better than just the inside of a flat. We used to go to the pub next door and sit in the garden then hear this familiar meow. She would then ignore us and, being a stroke-aholic, flirt with the other punters in the pub garden and taunt the dogs that also lived there! Unfortunately, she wasn’t entirely happy because the neighbour had 2 big dogs that used to be left outside in the garden all day and often used to escape into our garden. They tormented poor Lotté until she was scared to go outside.

We lived in that house for about 18 months and then Stuart and I decided we wanted to get on the property ladder. We loved Wimbledon but to afford a reasonably sized property and thinking ahead to the future and where we would like to raise a family we moved out to Godalming in Surrey (house 10). When we viewed the property, the vendors had a cat almost identical to Lotté but male (and missing a leg). It was lazing in the sunshine in the back garden. We love the property and we saw that as a sign. We had to have this house!

Lotté has never been happier in any home than when she was there. Her coat was always soft and glossy and no more did we have to hack out big furry knots from the back of her legs. She had her little domain and she was happy to defend it. She got to chase the odd bird, sit on windowsills and do all the stuff that cats love to do.

But, unfortunately for her, our life was to change again and once more, poor Lotté would be on the move again!

Stuart and I decided we all needed a better quality of life, especially Stuart who had had enough of commuting to London every day, plus we missed being near to family especially while raising a family. We made the decision to move to Bournemouth.

Maybe sensing her life was about to be upturned again and she was being made to leave her little spot of paradise on the day we moved she ran away. We looked everywhere for her, called her, even cooked her fish in the hope she would return but no, she was gone and didn’t want to come back. So we had to move without her. Thankfully, our friends and neighbours kept a lookout for her and let her back in our house when she showed up. So, off Stuart had to go back to Surrey the next day to pick her up.

Not being familiar with the area, despite my family living around the area, we wanted to rent for a period of time before we bought. So, we moved into the home we are currently in (house 11). Its a small 2 bed cottage on a plot of land which houses a block of flats and other cottages but we don’t have our own garden, instead there are communal gardens. Lotté has to share this green space with a couple of other cats, foxes and squirrels and, for a short period of time, had to live next door to a very large and very barky Alsatian.

Now, we have found a house to buy and will soon be moving again (house 12). Its got a lovely garden and backs on to a massive park to explore, on a quiet road. We think she will love it. But maybe all this moving around has taken its toll! The question now is will she live to see it – will she live long enough to be happy again in her surroundings. If she does, will the stress of another move at her age be too much for her.

Poor thing, she has been on quite a journey in her 17 years and covered some incredible miles for a cat! The above only mentions the long-term addresses and has excluded catteries and a short holiday at my aunts.

Please Lotté, be OK – we are so sure you will love your new home when you see it, with all its space. Please get better. We love you x