A reading by Janet to remember and honour our beloved Susie the Cat on the occasion of the sprinkling of her ashes in the Butterfly Garden which Marilyn lovingly created this summer in the back yard of our house at 14 Devon Avenue in Sackville, New Brunswick. We are freeing Susie’s body to join her spirit on 8/28/2008, in part because it is a very important date to us (the date of Marilyn’s and my 12th anniversary) and in part because, with all the lucky “8’s” in it, it is a very auspicious date. When Susie died on December 31, 2007 I sent out this notice to our close friends, most of whom who had been Susie’s friends, too.
Susie the Cat
Susie, our beloved (mostly white) cat, age 15 and 1/2, died this morning. While the snow fell thick and heavy, blanketing everything around us, with Marilyn and me holding her with love, Dr. Sue Purdy helped Susie’s spirit to leave her body and soar to a glorious new state of being. Susie’s spirit is everywhere, everywhere….
Her dear (mostly black) sister Loofa remains with us and we give thanks for her every moment.
In Kit Pearson’s book ‘Awake and Dreaming’, Theo’s dad read a story by Rudyard Kipling out loud to Theo at bedtime. The story, about a time when tame animals were wild, is called ‘The Cat That Walked by Himself.’ Theo’s dad read: “…when the moon gets up and night comes, he is the Cat that walks by himself, and all places are alike to him. Then he goes out to the Wet Wild Woods or up the Wet Wild Trees or on the Wet Wild Roofs, waving his wild tail and walking by his wild lone.”
This passage reminds me so much of Susie. Susie the Cat walks now by her wild lone, healthy again, and full of joy and sweetness, a truly magnificent animal. One of the many affectionate pet names we had for her was Susie-Fly-By-Night, a name born when we’d watch her tear through the house, or fly through the garden as if she had wings! And now she really is doing that! Flying!
She gave us all of herself for all the years of her happy and rich life. Marilyn, Loofa and I, plus her many friends who adored her — many of whom are children — Susie loved children! — will miss her dreadfully.
I have attached a photograph of Susie taken about a year and a half ago by our dear friend Christie Springer, who loves all cats as much as we do. Susie had a lot of different looks. This one is Susie Beautiful.
Janet
August 25th, 2008 — as I write this it’s a rainy day – the first in a while – and Susie, your sister Loofa cried to go out with such volume and so insistently this morning, that I opened the door and off she went into the pouring rain! When she returned, some 15 minutes later, she carried her tail high and her miew sounded, well, proud and happy! She stood in front of the cream leather chair and miewed for me to put the soft throw blanket on the arm so she could jump up and be near me as I have my morning coffee and read the newspaper. I did, and up she came, her coat covered with fine rain droplets! I patted her and told her she was the prettiest cat in the whole house – we were always careful not to make such value judgments while you were here with us, too, Susie — and she made her little throat noises contentedly, fastened her front claws into the blanket, and basked in the attention. Her eyes grew very dark as they always do when she is in the mood to be patted and praised, and her head grew smaller…I know it sounds weird, but it’s true!– both Marilyn and I notice that her head seems to shrink at such times! Wherever my hand stroked her, she began to lick that place with intention, as if she wanted to remove any traces of human contact with her lovely fur. I find it amusing that she contorts her body in order to stretch her tongue to her mid-back and tries valiantly to remove any vestiges of my scent remaining after my patting! What a cat. That’s why she is called Loofa…there will always be a part of her that “stands alone”.
But you, Susie – you were not like that. Even now that you are well into your 10th life, I’m sure you are not “standing alone” because you seem to be still here — very much here! If you had been here “in body” this morning, though, Susie, the whole scene I just described above would have been different! You’d have been the one on the chair arm, and Loofa would have been facing Mecca in her prayer position! Or you might have been in my lap or perhaps on the rug facing the opposite direction from your sister! I think you were of the Buddhist persuasion and enjoyed a meditation now and again. If Marilyn and I had been sitting on the couch together, you’d have been there in between us where I suspect the positive vibrations were the strongest, held by love in that beautiful place, and being stroked by both of us, sometimes simultaneously!
Susie, you were our black and white cat who was “mostly white”, while Loofa is our black and white cat who is “mostly black”! That’s how we always described the two of you to our cat sitters who did not know you well enough at the beginning to tell you apart!
While you were here in body as well as in spirit, Susie, it was difficult to think of you without also thinking of Loofa, not surprising since you had been together since birth. When Alasdair and I went to find me a kitten at the vet’s, and I saw you, I knew right away that I wanted you. Alasdair said that I should take Loofa, too, and he was so right. I could see as soon as I got home that having both of you was perfect. But I do remember that it was you, Susie, looking out at me from the cage, who immediately tugged on my heartstrings.
I have so many memories of your kittenhood! I remember the very first time you and Loofa went outside from your first home on Pringle Street. At first I went out with you every day to protect you as you bit by bit discovered the outdoors world around you and learned about it’s dangers as well as its pleasures. You were so young, Susie, that you had no idea you should not love other cats and for a short time you played every day with the cat next door!
After you arrived the entire house had to be kitten-proofed. Tablecloths were finally put away after you proved your playful nature several times by jumping on the part that hung down and hanging on it until the cloth slid off, bringing with it all the dishes crashing to the floor!
I had to get used to you two kittens jumping out at me from behind doors, landing halfway up my bare leg and holding on with your sharp needle-like baby claws! And I had remember to tuck out of sight, or unplug, all the electric cords which you loved to chew with your sharp little baby teeth. I had to be careful with the hot iron and not allow the cord to dangle off the ironing board because you loved to reach up and hang on it, risking a severe burn if I were not attentive. I kept an eagle eye on the top of the stove and counter tops and disciplined you severely for jumping on them. I took out all plants and flowers that would be poisonous to kittens since you loved to eat leaves and blossoms. I watched the floor all the time ready to pick up stray pieces of yarn, string or elastic bands which you loved to eat. I had to get a garbage can (which you liked to climb into) with a fasten-down lid, and learned never to leave bones on plates as you’d be into them in a flash!
And I had to be careful when I had a hot bath as you liked to watch me and dabble daintily in the water with your paws, watching the water drip off your little foot, precariously perched on the side of the tub, looking as if at any moment you would fall in!
I got used to hearing the thunderous sound of 8 kittie feet pounding the carpeted floor as you chased each other around the house, and I grew to enjoy the cries, screams and other loud noises you and Loofa made as you tussled and played together all day long – well, at least until an utter quietness suddenly enveloped the house and I’d wonder where you’d gone, and creep through the rooms until I found you, curled up together somewhere in the deep sleep of the young.
Full of mischief, you had me very scared when you disappeared for several days…I searched the house and the streets, and thought you were lost forever…before being found in my bureau drawer asleep amongst my sweaters! When discovered, you jumped out, yawned, stretched lazily, and headed for your water and food bowls in the kitchen as if you’d never been away!
You were always loving but you gave your love most perfectly when Marilyn joined me. Always a social cat, a cat who loved people, as soon as Marilyn arrived you seemed completely content. We argue rarely, but whenever we did, you knew things would come out alright in the end, so you never interfered as Loofa always did! We always thank Loofa for raising her voice in loud miews, and placing her body strategically close to us when we argue; by doing so, she alerts us to the fact that we are arguing! She is like our “out-of-body” selves! She enables us to hear ourselves from outside, as it were, and that makes us stop arguing! But we never thanked you, Susie, for having such faith in our love that you just walked away and let us continue, confident that very soon peace would be restored and you could come back and nuzzle us, and ask for love again! And you got it!
I have so many memories of you, Susie, dearest cat, that I hardly know what to write here. A strong image is of you asking to be let out, streaking down the back steps, moving quickly, close to the ground, with purpose, and disappear around the corner of the house. We’d sometimes walk to the front window, look out, and see you cross the road and disappear. We knew where you were going, and it would not be long until you returned around the corner of the house, moaning loudly — incredibly strange sounds in your throat — to alert us that you were back…with a mouse in your mouth! (Of course, it is impossible to miew with an open mouth when there is a lovely mouse in it that should not be allowed to escape.)
At first Marilyn was horrified, and I was surprised because this was a talent acquired fairly late in your life. As far as I knew, you did not hunt in your early years. (So much for the theory that a mother cat must teach her offspring how to hunt and kill successfully!) We soon learned, through trial and error, that the best thing we could do was to praise you for your superb hunting prowess. It was clear that you were not catching mice to eat (although you would nibble at them a little if we did not take away the mouse as soon as you arrived). No, you seemed not to know why you were catching the mice! Perhaps it was some deep instinct that forced you on those round-the-house hunting expeditions, I don’t know, but if we praised you for your offerings, you usually dropped the mouse, and we could scoop it up and take it away before you ate it, ingesting the worms and other nasties that were invariably in the mouse’s body!
When you became very obsessed with mouse-catching as you did for a while in your later years, going back again and again and returning many times with a mouse in the same day, we became quite concerned. That was your first obsessive-compulsive activity which seemed just a little…unusual. When you grew a little older and developed other problems the mouse catching stopped.
I know Marilyn will write about your very special love of children so I will not write much, but I want to mention that sweet, joyful look that you had as you played with the children across the road. If they were playing in their front yard when we let you out, you would immediately run over to be with them, throwing yourself to the grass on your back, asking to be tickled and patted! When you’d start across the road towards the children we always noticed and commented on your unique tail — not a tail that was raised straight in the air, because at a young age I think you may have had an encounter with a car or an animal that affected your tail-carrying abilities from then on – which you carried aloft with a little wave in it! You entered into the play, whatever the kids were doing, just like a kid yourself! And the story of your walking with Patti to the school bus every day to meet the kids, is legend.
We had many nicknames for you, Susie! Susie Sweet Stuff, Susie Q, Susie Fly-By-Night, Susie-Sweet-Knees, Susie Splendid, Suz-Booze, Susan, Sue, “Sue” City Sue, Susie Pink Ears, “Her Pinkness”, and Susie-Sue. We had a few pet names which we called both you and Loofa: Baby Bunting, Smidgeon Toes, and Poopers. And you will remember the names we call Loofa: Loofa Lufthansa, Loofa Lumpkin, Loofa-Loo, Loofa Love-Parts,and Loofa Limburger!
You loved Christmas and birthdays – anything with wrapping paper and bows! During your kitten Christmases you and your sister lived to leap into the middle of the tree and climb to the top! I had to tie it to hooks in the walls so you wouldn’t knock it down! And you’d knock ornaments off onto the carpet! I had to watch the tree when the electric lights were plugged in as you loved to chew the cords, and I stopped using tinsel because I knew that like all kittens, you’d eat it!
Every year, even as an old cat, you’d poke around the wrapped Christmas gifts under the tree trying, always successfully, to find the ones with catnip toys and usually opening them well ahead of Christmas Day! In the evening we’d often find you curled up and peacefully snoozing under the Christmas tree, surrounded by unopened gifts, lighted by the warm glow of the Christmas tree lights. On Christmas morning you’d be right there in the midst of the gift opening, darting here and there amongst the wrappings, burying yourself in the papers and climbing into boxes as they emptied. You and Loofa loved your stockings which Santa left for you both long before commercial enterprises got the idea of producing entire stockings for cats. Always the giver of gifts, once you gave me the gift of a Seagull pewter tree ornament with your photo in it!
When you became ill with the twitching, jumping, and pulling out of your hair, a very hard time for all of us including you, we got you the best medical care we could find. After Dr. Sue Purdy thought maybe you had a flea and that was ruled out, and she admitted she was stuck, we took you up to see Dr. Dave Poirier, and he took your case on like gangbusters. He first gave you every test possible. None of his tests revealed much, but we did try you on several medications, and nothing really seemed to help. You did not tolerate some medications well but we had you on others for quite a while. Dr. Poirier also knew about kitty Alzheimers, and about other types of dementia, but none of us was sure that’s what was going on. At his request we even made a videotape of you “doing the shimmy” and he sent it around to all the vets to see if anyone had suggestions! It was a scary time and we felt very helpless.
Finally, Dr. Purdy found the cancer under your tongue. We knew it had not been there very long because your mouth had been checked by both vets. She told us that there was no more we could do to help you, and that you were in some pain, which could only intensify as more time passed. That was the day when, with deep sadness, we asked Sue to put you to sleep. We held you with our hands as Sue gave you the injection, and in agony we watched as the life left your sweet body. There is nothing more to say. I cannot bear to remember that moment for more than a brief sad moment. I only hope that you forgave us.
After your death we had to get used to Loofa alone, and she had to get used to being without her constant sidekick, her lifelong companion, after all those many years. It has been hard for all of us as we all miss you so much, Susie.
One of the most beautiful things I remember about you is your wonderful raising of-the left- paw like a Japanese cat! I would say something to you, something affectionate, often asking you if you were the most beautiful “mostly white” girl in the house, and you would raise your paw in the air! You often liked to go up on the windowsill in the sunroom to feel the strings of the Venetian blinds on your whiskers, and when you were there and I was sitting in the chair by the windowsill, you would raise your paw in a loving gesture! It was one of your most endearing acts, and now that your body is gone, our lives are the poorer for not being able to see you doing that any more.
Many years ago my dear stepdaughter Paivi gave me a little group of Japanese cats. One of them – the main cat in the group — is making that gesture. Cats who hold up a paw are called Maneki Neko or Beckoning Cat. They are believed to bring good luck to the owner. While these cats can raise one or both paws, the left paw is thought to attract customers to a shop where it is displayed! The higher the paw is raised, the greater the luck! And some say that the higher the paw the greater the distance good fortune will come from. You raised your paw high, dear Susie, and many, many times you blessed us and our home in this wonderful manner! Today I discovered that many Japanese shrines (and homes) include the figure of a cat with one paw raised, often referred to as Kami Neko in reference to the cat’s kami, or spirit. I am placing our Maneki Neko into our butterfly garden where we are sprinkling your ashes, dear Susie, as a way of remembering and honouring you and that wonderful gesture of love you had, that beautiful way that you chose to welcome us to you, to call us with your love.
I look forward to the day when I will see you again, Susie, beckoning me with your sweet paw, into Heaven.
Love aways and forever,
| Susie |
| 31, Dec 2007 |
| Janet & Marilyn |