Perfect Timing

It's been two weeks since Fatty left us.

It seems like it's been longer. I guess when you see someone every day, even one day without them seems like an eon.

I've been doing good. In fact, I actually feel a bit guilty for not having more grief. The thing is though, I've spent the last two years wondering how long she had left with me. There were moments when she looked drastically ill (and on one occasion, I had to bring her to the vet to be hospitalised for the day) but still she fought on.

To be honest though... and by honest... I mean bluntly, painfully honest... I'm glad she went when she did.

It's not because I wanted her to pass. If I could, I would have wanted her to live forever as the cat who would con me out of food, then snuggle up to me at night.

But there couldn't have been a more perfect time for her to go.

In her old age, Fatty couldn't clean herself. Her arthritis made it hard for her to reach spots and for her to scratch at her scratching post. So we had to regularly groom her. The week she passed, I trimmed her nails because they were getting too long. Two days before she passed, Ant gave her a bath and I blowdried her fur so that it'd be nice and soft.

We also put Fatty on the bed with Logan to get some of his body heat and she tolerated him grooming her. That in itself, was really sweet because Logan had always tried to be affectionate with Fatty. He used to try to sleep near her and of all the kittens, he was the one who Fatty seemed to be especially tolerant of. He used to purposely put his tail in front of her face while they were waiting for me to feed them and she rarely smacked him.

Perhaps I subconsciouly knew that her time was near. I had an overwhelming urge to bring her out to the backyard that weekend, so I did. I had refrained before because she would always run to the back area where the sand was and where the only thing that separated her from two large dogs was a fence with a giant hole. The dogs are not there any more, so I thought, what the hell. 

She seemed to relish the sunshine. Even though we were only outside for 10 minutes, I think she loved walking through the back area, smelling the plants and then plonking her newly washed bum on some sand. She was an outdoor cat who had to be kept indoors in her later years, so it was lovely to give her that. 

Last but not least, she had a micronap on the bed. She hadn't been able to jump up for a few months so Ant put her on our bed before he left for work. It was lovely sleeping near her again and she had a nice snooze before I had to boot her off before heading to work.  

Even her last meal was perfect. She wasn't showing interest in food for a few days so I brought home some roast chicken and she happily chowed down on it. After that, not even her favourite yogurt could entice her. How apt that my little con artist had human food as a last meal. 

So really, as sad as I am that she's no longer with us, I'm glad I unwittingly gave her the goodbye she deserved: full of all the simple pleasures she loved, without much fuss. I couldn't have planned it better myself.