Story submitted by Debbie Knowles.
When you ask for a favor granted by the Powers that be, remember, you will always be called upon to fulfill that favor granted.
Halloween, last year, except for the fun of Bobbi’s Halloween Party, was a pretty dark time. My ‘heart’, Bella, the cat who was my friend, my companion, and the feline soul mate who’d been through so much, was ill.
Bella had a complicated dentistry, one that took a toll on her small body. We were afraid we’d lose her.
That Sunday evening I stood before my little ‘altar’ with many small carved felines upon it. “Please, please, please don’t let anything happen to my Bella.” I prayed. “I can’t part with her yet. She deserves so much more in happiness, she has been through so much.” I meditated and told ‘Her’ that if she helped my Bella, we would somehow help another cat.
When Bella woke the next day, she got her fluids, and she seemed better. When we returned to the vet, she told us that Bella was doing much better! She gave us instructions to follow up with fluids for the week, and ‘as needed’. We had an ultra sound done that came back much better than we thought it would – we had been worried about Bella’s kidneys, but one kidney was fine, and the other had some slight damage. It was something we could treat.
Bella’s appetite picked up and she seemed to get somewhat better.
I was so grateful. I am still grateful. And we waited for fate to show us the way to fulfilling our vow.
One day, close to Thanksgiving, we went over to Bobbi’s at Atlas. I can never remember clearly why – I think we had delivered some cookies or cake or something my husband, the Chef, had made. As we were there, his eyes took him to a very small dark orange cat in a bottom cage. She was all huddled over on herself and staring at the floor of the cage, oblivious to the happy playing kittens in the cage beside her. We asked and all that was known was that she was an ‘Owner Surrender’. He had opened the cage and the little cat rubbed up against him immediately, and when he called me over, she was in his lap.
She was tiny, the smallest adult cat I’d seen in awhile. And her age was listed as ‘about 10. She looked older.
We hadn’t planned on another cat. Our two room pre war walk up (think Jackie Gleason and the Honeymooners) was a combination of living room/kitchen and a separate bedroom. We shared this space with Bella, Orange Ruffy (some of you might remember him as ‘Milo’), and SmokieBoo, who had been rescued the day we moved from my mom’s house on 110th Street in Richmond Hill.
But when the cage door was closed, the little cat curled up into herself, huddled down, and stared at the floor again.
I have seen that stare, and it wasn’t good. This was depression. This little cat had belongs to someone who loved her. I wondered who it was, maybe someone who had gone into a nursing home or died? Maybe someone who had lost their home? Or had someone betrayed this gentle trust? My husband, who I am blessed with, had tears in his eyes. I was about to cry too, but the decision was made. We wanted Natalie.
We filled out the application, and were told we would have to speak with Bobbi, as our boycats were both FIV+. I knew it would not be a problem, as I very much doubted they would get close to this little cat, who I was told wasn’t great with other cats. But one of the volunteers pointed out she was not reacting to the cats on either side of her. I knew why – she didn’t care anymore. She had been abandoned. The volunteers at Bobbi’s - caring people who petted her and stroked her, and spent time with her had saved her life. But she was not home, she was waiting for a home that she might not know if she stayed here, because she was an older cat.
I had worked in the adoptions center of the Humane Society of NY for 10 years. I knew older cats were most often passed up for kittens, or even younger cats. This little orange cat had a slimmer chance than most. It was a Miracle she was here. She would have been euthanized at ACAC probably the same day because of her age. As it was, she needed a home, and soon. My husband told the Adoptions staff we wanted Natalie. We felt so bad when we walked out, but my husband went to her cage and petted her again. “I love you and you’re coming home with us. We will be back as soon as we can.”
When we spoke with Bobbi that night, I told her that I was very worried about Natalie. Bobbi was a little worried about the ‘boys’ – our Ruffy and Smokie were FIV+, and she had a whole house with FIV+ cats for adoption. But I told her I was worried about Natalie. I explained that the ‘boys’ were not likely to bother Natalie. They did not bother Bella, and I could not bear for this cat with the tiny paws to remain caged any longer. While our home was far from perfect, we loved cats. Bobbi, after checking with a volunteer who had been debating taking Natalie home as well, called us back. Natalie could go home with us!
The day she came home was one of the busiest days my husband had with our small dessert business. He had 12 orders to do, and so Natalie came home to me, Bella, and the ‘boys’. When she was out of the carrier, and in our bedroom, she explored the length of the room, sniffing. She then looked up at me, with large eyes, and meowed loudly, leapt up onto the bed, and fell into a deep sleep.
The next day, we opened the door between the rooms and the boys, who had been very curious about what had gone into it in the carrier, carefully slunk in, sniffing around. For whatever reason, they did not think to jump on the bed, where Natalie lay.
It was not til later that Natalie came out, sniffing and curious. When she saw Ruffy sitting on the carpet, she hissed and growled loudly. She had the loudest meow I have ever heard, and growls like she is twice her size. Ruffy turned and ran over to his cat tree, and disappeared into a paper bag there for safety. (He loves paper bags).
Natalie sniffed around the room. Smokieboo watched her curiously. He seemed unmoved by her hissing and growling. He watched her carefully, but with more curiosity than fear or apprehension. Later that evening, despite her growling and hissing, he jumped up on the bed and lay beside me. (I am his person, and woe to the cat that thinks that anything will keep him from me.) I thanked goodness that Bella appeared to have missed the Natcat.
The next day the two met. Bella didn’t hiss, though I expected her too. She didn’t seem happy, but she certainly didn’t seem overly hostile. Since Natalie’s been here, Bella has given her the ‘Smacky paw’ a couple times, but Natalie growls, hisses, and retreats-slightly. She then sits on the small rug outside the bathroom, and stretches her claws on it.
A couple of days after we got Natalie home, we noticed a small red patch on her ear. We took her to our vet, and she confirmed it – Natalie had ringworm. We were given medication, and we started her on it immediately. To our wonder, and giving thanks to Higher Powers, not one of us or the cats got it. Fortunately, when we were at the vets, she made note of the small bump on Nat’s underside. She told us that she felt a lump on her mammary area should warrant being taken off and biopsied. However, Natalie had a slight cold and had been throwing up. We treated this, and again not one of the other cats got anything.
In early January all of Natalie’s issues that prevented the surgery were resolved. Doctor Paoloni told us she didn’t think the surgery would be a ‘big deal.’ We were worried, as Natalie was no spring chicken. But Dr. P pointed out she was an otherwise healthy cat – her blood work had come back fine. She felt not to do the surgery was more dangerous, as this lump could grow worse.
The day that Natalie was due to have the surgery, I went to work and waited for the vet to call, or my husband to hear from the vet. Finally, he called me 30 minutes before I was to leave. “The growth was very large. Natalie had to have a double mastectomy.” The growth had spread all the way down her chest. They had spent a lot of time taking it out. They had also removed polyps form Natalie’s ears. We had known Natalie was deaf-she meowed loudly because she could not hear herself. We hoped that the deep cleaning of her ears and the removal of the polyps will perhaps restore even a little hearing to her.
Dr. P and the nurses told us that Natalie had come through the surgery great. They wanted to keep her overnight, but we were allowed to visit.
When we went in, Natalie was in a carrier with a towel around her. She gave me the ‘silent meow’. I kissed her tiny head and cried over her. My husband told her goodnight, kissed her paw, and then we left. I hated walking out of there.
Tonight as I write this, Natalie is stretched out on our bed. Smokieboo came in and lay on the other side of the bed for a bit, then went back into the kitchen. The cats have just had their supper, and Natalie has had her pain medication. But today, 2 days after her surgery, she looks sore, but her surgery site looks much better, and her appetite is improving. The vet’s office has called daily to check on her progress. She gets an antibiotic a day, and pain med’s every 12 hours. She is sleeping on the blanket that I have that is the softest.
The biopsy results will be back in 2 or 3 weeks.
My husband comes in and kisses my forehead, then leans down and kisses Natalie. She squeaks at him, and then puts out her head to be rubbed. She reaches out with a tiny paw, and puts it over his hand. She knows, no matter what, she is loved.
Natalie has made friends in her sojourn. She belongs to Catster.com. She has her own blog. And she has friends. She is one of the ‘Elderwise’ – those cats who have wisdom in years that stretch before them and beyond them, a cat who has experience, strength, wisdom. She has come through much, our Natalie. But she has persevered.
And we are fortunate to be able to call her our friend, and be entrusted with the wonder of caring for her, and getting to listen to her ‘rrrrtpt?’ as we lean over to kiss her forehead, rub her ear, and whisper ‘Goodnight Little Ms. Tinypaws’ as she settles in beside me, her purr is the only sound in the darkness.
