Bertie was born the summer of 1988 in our old dairy
barn in Hector NY. Her mother was Black Kitty.
She was one of four babies. Unfortunately Black Kitty was hit by a car
and killed when Bertie was still tiny too young to be orphaned.
My sister Sheila and I searched the barn and found the four crying
starving babies above our water pump.
I remember struggling to reach the babies and little Bertie
crawled out to me. She had never seen a human being before but
she was hungry and wanted her mom
a two legged one would do.
I was immediately struck by her trust. Our bond was formed
from that instant.
I was privileged to raise those four kittens two males who I
called White Face and White Paws and two females who
I called Patty and Bertie.
Bertie’s real name was actually Big Bertha because she was
the biggest but I always called her Bertie.
Even though I was working as a maternity nurse at the time
I was unprepared to become the mother of four tiny kittens.
These babies needed to be fed every two hours they needed to
be cleaned they needed to be cuddled and comforted.
They needed everything a human baby would need except there
was four of them and they were very vocal with their demands.
I recall one time after they had eaten a very large meal and they made
a total mess in their box and on themselves.
I had the clean them up and the only thing that I could do was to
hold them under warm running water and bathe them.
None of them minded but little Bertie laid on her back in my
hands and looked up at me and purred as I bathed her.
The kittens became old enough that I could think about
giving them away. One of my co-workers expressed interest in
adopting the two female kittens.
My father was very happy that I had found homes for at least two
of the kittens since we had far too many cats already and we
always were very pleased if we could find good homes
for our kittens.
I made arrangements to meet the prospective new owners and Dad
and I loaded up Bertie and Patty in a pet carrier and drove them to
the meeting place. I cried the whole way there for I could not
bear to give Bertie up.
When we got there the people did not show up.
I happily took the kittens home and later on the people called to
apologize and also mentioned that they decided that they would
prefer a male and a female. I got to keep Bertie and gave away Patty
and White Face instead.
Bertie lived most of her life on that farm in Hector.
She lived with our extended family of humans and kitties.
I had two other cats who also claimed me so she had to share
me with Miss Kitty and Breznev. She was happy I think.
She enjoyed my company and an occasional treat of tuna
noodle casserole or spaghetti her favorite human foods.
In 1994 my dear father became ill.
I needed to be downstairs to help him during the night so
I slept in the living room on the hide-a-bed.
My own family was having their own problems accepting my
father’s illness and decline.
They did the best that they could but many times I was left alone
with Dad and I felt very alone and scared myself.
The living room was a designated “cat-free zone” so Bertie and
Breznev could not come in and be with me.
They cried and scratched at the French doors until I relented
and let them in. They provided me with the love and support I needed
to help me through those scary and dark days.
God sent me true angels when he graced my life with these
loving creatures. My dad died a few months later and both Bertie and
Breznev provided comfort to me.
In 1998 I decided that it was time for my life to go on I had spent
the last 18 years being with my parents and now they were both gone
and I felt the void keenly.
My friends in Omak Washington invited me to move back to
Washington State to be with them. I took them up on it.
I could not bring my dear kitties with me since I did not have
a place of my own to live and my friends had cat allergies.
I had to leave Bertie and Breznev in Hector.
That was a very difficult time for me.
After I got settled I went back to New York for a visit.
Breznev who was already 13 years old was failing in health and his
emotional state was not very good.
He was so attached to me that he had spent the year in my room,
my sister had to feed and water him there. He was so glad to
see me when I got home. Bertie was also very glad to see me.
I could only bring one cat with me.
I had to chose Bertie because Breznev was not in good health.
What a hard decision to have to make.
I flew Bertie out with me in her little pet carrier as carry on luggage.
All the way to the airport she cried.
I thought to myself that we were destined to have a fine trip if
she meowed for the next ten to twelve hours.
When we arrived at the airport I had to take Bertie out of her
little pet carrier and carry her through the metal detector.
When she saw where she was she must have thought,
“Holy Cow!!!” She never uttered another peep all the way to Spokane.
She moved into my little house with my two young males I had
adopted and made herself right at home.
She became the official greeter whenever I had company.
She loved everybody who visited child or adult.
In New York she had been rather shy but here she was a new
and much friendlier and happier kitty.
When I came home from work she would be waiting in the
window watching for me. I would drive up and see her stand up
and look for me then I would see her jump down to be at the
door to greet me.
She had a way of looking at me with such affection
I felt the same way about her.
I knew that she loved me and she knew that I loved her.
In July of 2001 Bertie caught what I thought was a cold.
I took her to the vets and got antibiotics for her.
We also found that she had an over active thyroid so we
started treating her for that. From July until February
Bertie had her ups and downs.
We found that she had a tumor in her nasal cavity.
Since she could not smell her food she would
not eat at times.
I did my best to keep her comfortable but it soon became
clear that I was keeping her alive for me without regard for
her comfort and well-being.
It took every ounce of courage I had to make that last trip to
the vets but because I loved her so much I had to do what
was right for her.
I could not allow her to suffer any more.
She died in the embrace of the vet’s assistant looking for
human comfort during her last minutes of life just as she crawled
from the nest her mom had made for her so many
years ago and so many miles away.
Marsha
| Bertie |
| Marsha Smith |