Every One Deserves To Be Remembered

It's been a really long time since I posted.   I know I keep saying that I'm going to do it more, but, lately it just hasn't been possible.  Between work and tons of sick, desperate cats, it's been quite a haul and there's really been no time for anything other than doing what I have to do and sleeping.  There's been some awesome news.  Lots of progress with kitties like Heather, Ramses, Nightingale, and others.  But there's also been some losses... and those are the moments that make rescue really, really hard sometimes.

We lost quite a few cats.  My heart breaks a little with every one.  I try to be strong, but sometimes I have to just give in and cry it out.  If I don't, it all just builds up and comes out in ways I don't want it to.   The breakneck pace of things hasn't really helped, either.  Stress begets stress.  It's not a saying that I know of, but it should be.  But a few short days ago, something happened that forced it all out, like it or not...

It's taken me quite a while to even get the gumption to post this, I guess because I didn't want to talk about it, and I've been so busy burying my head in being busy, the holidays, and family, that I didn't really want to unpack this to deal with, but my baby boy Houdini really deserves to be memorialized.  A few weeks ago, we had to make the tough call to put Houdini down.   It was a Saturday night, and the family was watching a tv show together.   I looked over and saw that Houdini was having trouble breathing and when I went to investigate further, I knew absolutely that he was in trouble.  I made the call to Lori, and then I ran out the door with him and the girls in tow and rushed off to the emergency vet.  I could tell even then that the prognosis would not be good, but we had to do everything we could......  I'd become very attached to Houdini, and it had been tossed around in the family that he would be staying.   I guess to really understand our attachment to this little guy, I should share more of his story.

Houdini at the shelter.  Poor dirty scared little boy :( 

Houdini was in a high kill shelter, and his prospects weren't good.  He was marked as a feral (generally a death sentence unless someone steps up to rescue them promptly).   He was terrified, and we don't know exactly what he'd been through, but whatever it had been, none of it had been good.   Lori couldn't leave him there (as is her way, bless her!!), and asked if we could work with him.  I very rarely refuse her, and this little guy really needed the help.  She pulled him along with a few other feral kittens, and once he got to us, the work began. 

Houdini was SO terrified of people, he wouldn't even consider allowing touch.  He hissed, scratched, fussed, and ran away as soon as opportunity would arise.   As the other ferals rescued with him one by one drank the "people kool-aid", I wondered if we'd ever get Houdini over the hump.  Patience and persistence, and soon enough, he was allowing touch, and even beginning to enjoy it.  Once he was socialized enough, he went into a store, waiting to find his forever home.    Unfortunately, it wasn't meant to be then.   We got a call from the store that Houdini was sick, and could we please come and get him.  Of course, I headed out to collect the poor guy to bring him home and nurse him back to health.  Vet visit #1, prescription meds, and rest.   He got better, and back he went to the store.   Unfortunately, although he had some interest, he was overlooked time and again, and once again, we got a call from the store that he was ill.  Off again I went to collect him, and off again to the vet for more meds and more rest and care.   Not that we minded.  By this point, we had all really come to adore the little fellow.  He had a great personality!   So friendly, and most of all, amusing as anything!  He loved to play with the oddest things, and instead of holding his tail straight up, he held it forward like an arrow pointing what direction he was going in all the time.   He was chatty, too, and followed me around the house yapping up a storm.  He really bonded with our resident, Trouble, and aside from being buddies, he was something of a doppelganger for her.   It was so cute watching the "twins" play with their strange toys (among Trouble's favorite things being plastic beads and the lids from cans - we take them away but she always finds more), and generally amusing everyone.   

Happy-feet Houdini!

We started just taking Houdini to events, hoping that he would find his forever family at one of them.  He was always well-behaved, purred at the right times, was cuddly, but when we packed up and went home, he always seemed relieved.   I still hoped he would find the right place, but he was becoming more and more attached to me, and after events he was stuck to me like glue.  I expressed concern to Lori that he might be getting a little too attached to me specifically, and we discussed perhaps transferring him to a different foster just to see how he'd act... but it didn't happen.  Frankly, I had really come to enjoy him meeting me at the door when I got home from work, and HEAVEN FORBID I go into a room and not let him in.  The ruckus he made at the door was enough to wake the dead.   So he was my little Shadow, but we kept taking him to events and hoping for the best....

One event, we finally thought things had come together.  This wonderful couple was very interested in Houdini, and wanted to take him for a trial!   We were all SO happy!  He'd been overlooked so many times, and they were lovely people.  If he was finally going to have a forever home, all we could do was celebrate!  The couple did the paperwork, left their trial fee, and took Houdini home.  I hoped as I fell asleep that night to receive a phone call about how wonderful he was and how happy they were with him.  Unfortunately that is the complete opposite of the call I got.   The couple called and said that Houdini is a lovely boy, but he wouldn't eat, wouldn't drink, and worst of all, cried ALL NIGHT LONG.   It was beyond just being uncomfortable in a new place and needing to settle down.  The wife told me that the sound me made was like hearing a baby wail in pain or anguish.  They asked if they could bring him back.   Shocked, saddened and sort of disappointed for the poor guy (and for these lovely people, they certainly didn't expect that!!), I absolutely agreed for him to come back to my place, and I discussed them meeting some of the other fosters we had at the home to see if they felt someone else might be more suitable.   They agreed, and later that day, they arrived on my doorstep with Houdini in a carrier.  As they came into the front hall and put the carrier down, I called out to Houdini and he started FREAKING in the carrier.   I told the lady to just go ahead and open it, and I've never seen a cat fly out of a carrier to fast.... right past the lady and everyone else and up into my arms.  He literally put his little feet around my neck and hugged me like I'd never been cat-hugged before!   He was purring so loud and was rubbing on my face so vigorously I couldn't talk for a moment.   The lovely couple just looked at me and said that he looked like he'd come home and was happy there.   I realized at that moment that chances were that he would not be going to another home, and that he was home.   I was trying REALLY hard not to admit it though, but I think everyone sort of realized that that was the way it would be.   Time for a family meeting and to see what to do.  We already have residents, and although Houdini fit in with our little group, adding another cat is also adding the potential for more vet bills and responsibility, and it's not a decision to be made lightly.   We had to talk a little more and see how things went, but as far as Houdini was concerned, he wasn't going ANYWHERE.  

Houdini sleeping in one of his silly little ways.

After that, he was even MORE clingy and even MORE my shadow.  If he couldn't come into the bedroom at night to sleep with me, the ruckus and destruction he caused was unreal.   I let myself get comfortable with him being my little buddy, and how could we not completely enjoy this incredibly loving, wonderful, funny little guy!   The family all sort of agreed and we were getting ready to make the step and actually adopt this boy (we already had in our hearts, we just hadn't made it "official" yet, but anyone who knew us knew it was a done deal).   This is when tragedy struck.............

At the vet's office, they had rushed Houdini away for testing, xrays, and to give him meds to make him more comfortable.  The girls and I were pacing, trying to do anything we could to keep from fretting.  They were being really strong and good, it was me who was the mess.  When the vet came back to talk to us, putting Houdini's xray up on the display, my heart completely sank, and before he even said a word, I could feel the tears warming my cheeks, and I knew what he was going to say.   The diagnosis was FIP.... Houdini's lungs were so filled with fluid he couldn't breathe, and the pressure it was putting on his heart was causing him immense pain.   There was absolutely nothing that could be done to save him.   The vet called Lori and explained to her the situation, and she had to make the tough call I knew there was no choice but to make.... we had to agree to end Houdini's suffering.   Anything else would have been selfish, wasteful, and pointless, not to mention making him suffer that much more.  She gave me permission to stay with him (the vet requires this), and apologized several times for what she had to do.  I COMPLETELY understood, and would never blame her.  It was the right call, as completely heartbreaking as it was.  The girls caught the gist of what the vet was saying, and they were quietly crying too.  We all knew what was next.  

Houdini always smiled while snoozing.

The wonderful vet techs brought Houdini into the room with us so we could have some private time to say goodbye.  They were so wonderful and respectful.  The girls and I cried a bit, cuddled Houdini and told him how much we loved him.   In that moment, I was so choked up, but it warmed my heart a bit to see the look of complete love and trust in his eyes at that moment.  Yes, he was on pain meds and that was making him a little wonky, but he COMPLETELY trusted us and the situation and I could just tell he knew that we would do what was best for him.   The look in his eyes made me cry harder.  The girls cried harder...   But we calmed ourselves down because we all wanted Houdini's last moments on the earth to be a sharing of love, not sorrow.  Sorrow could come later.     I looked down at those loving, trusting pools of his eyes, and I couldn't help but remember the terrified, hissing, spitting, traumatized kitten he was when he came to us.  He would rather have chewed off his own foot than to spend even one moment in the company of people.   Now, all he wanted was to be around people, be loved, cuddled, played with, and he trusted us so totally.   I knew in that moment that he was good and understood with what we had to do, and that he was letting us know in that look. I had to go with that trust and honor it, and when the vet came back in and asked if we were ready, we all reached out and put our hands on Houdini so that he had love and contact.  He started to purr VERY loudly, and he kept purring right until he took his last sighing breath.  When it was done, we just sat with him, quiet, no longer in pain, and stroked his soft fur.   We all sobbed, more quietly now, it almost felt wrong to really cry loudly.   When we left and got into the car, I broke down completely, sobbing, crying, loudly, wetly.   The girls were sobbing too but I cried the hardest.  They touched me and hugged me and knew why I was sad.   I said goodbye to my cat.  He wasn't "my" cat, but really, in so many ways, he was.  So much time and effort went into earning his trust.  It just felt wrong and tragic for it to end this way.    I railed at the universe for a little bit, but realized quickly, I have a whole bunch of other cats who need me, just the way Houdini did.   They still need me to help guide them to trust, to show them humans aren't awful, to show them. It helped to solidify and remind me that this is what it's all about.  This little guy could have just died at the high kill shelter... scared, angry, alone, unloved, dirty and sad.   Instead, he died surrounded by love, care, and everything a kitty could ever want in his life.  He lived a GOOD life, as short as it was.  One filled with that love, filled with play, filled with care....   That MATTERS.   It was a short life, but we made a difference in that one life, all of us.  Lori by choosing to save him.  Our family by working with him.  The wonderful people at the stores we have our cats at, by promoting him, caring for him, doing their part to find him a home. Even that nice couple who tried to give him a home.  Everyone who'd touched his life from the moment Lori pulled him had made his life better.   This is why we do what we do.  This is what it's all about.

Houdini's final moments.   Love and Trust.

I think about Houdini a lot, still.   Our Trouble looks so much like him, and one of the fosters we have is also very reminiscent of him.  Sometimes from the corner of my eye I see her run by and I wait for his little chirps and chatter that said he'd found me in the house.....   It does hurt, just briefly, but then I think that we can make that difference for another cat.  And now, in my mind, every cat I work with that is in that awful place mentally, I tell myself that I am doing this to honor Houdini.   Every baby we save, everyone we help is a testament and an honor to him, his memory, and all the other cats who's lives have been made different and better by the work we do.  Instead of letting it keep me sad, I'm going to continue to embrace it as a motivation to keep doing what we do, even when it's hard.  Even when there's setbacks.  Even when sometimes we lose one (which is inevitable). 

Thank you, my little buddy boy.  My little chatter man.  My kitty "boyfriend".   Thank you for being in my life, and loving us, trusting us, and for reminding us why we do this.  Thank you for everything, little love, and we will see you at the Rainbow Bridge!  I know that you are enjoying life there, chatting, chirping and amusing just the way you always did and delighted us so much!   You will be missed, but most importantly, you will be remembered with love.