I would like to tell anyone who will read this the story of our beautiful girl, Zoe. I adopted Zoe, a Maine Coon mix, in December of 2002, just in time for Christmas. Since the day I got her, we were the best of friends. When I was in the house, she was my constant companion, a real “Mommy’s girl.” She definitely wasn’t a lap cat, but she always
wanted to be near you.
Zoe was definitely mischievous, climbing onto whatever she could, squeezing her large behind into whatever empty box she could find, no matter how ridiculously small it was. Before I married and it was just Zoe and I in my apartment, I used to tear off the page of one of those day-by-day calendars, and Zoe would have fun for hours, chasing and batting the paper ball around the hardwood floor. When I moved out of that apartment, we found about 300 paper balls underneath the couch. I guess she was storing them away for something, or just making me look like a really bad housekeeper.
One of her favorite things to do was to rub her clawless front paws on anything that would give them a good scratch. Her infamous trait, however, was jumping onto the bathroom vanity and trying to drink water out of the faucet. My husband was constantly trying to break her of this habit, but the stubborn girl just couldn’t be told “no,” (just like her Mommy). I can’t tell you how many times I tripped over her because she was always right near my feet, or heard a squeal when I accidentally stepped on her tail because she always wanted to be in on the action.
Zoe was not allowed in our basement, but she never failed to try. It was funny, because whenever she heard the basement door open, you would hear her thundering down the steps in the upper part of the house, and she would be waiting by the door for you to come upstairs.
On her last day with us, (of course, we didn’t know it was her last day), my husband left the basement door open by accident, and, lo and behold, Zoe finally got to see what was behind that mysterious door. We have two male cats, also, one older than her and one just a kitten, but she was definitely queen of the house, and she let them know it.
Yesterday, on her last day with us, I got up very early in the morning, which I never do, and came into the living room to watch some TV. Zoe went to lay down in one of her favorite places, underneath our glass coffee table, and in about 10 minutes, something happened and she was just gone. It was one of the most devastating moments of my life, that my beautiful 4-year-old ball of fur was just gone, although I think that something urged me to wake up so that I could be there with her. I am still tearing up writing this. We’re told she could have had some heart defect or a blood clot that would take her so suddenly. I can take small comfort in the fact that she didn’t even know what hit her.
Well, it’s still hitting me.
Last night, I kept waiting for those big, beautiful eyes to peek around the corner at me. It’s hard to be in the house when you know that there is a member of the family that is never coming home. Our little Conan, who was Zoe’s sometimes playmate and her constant source of irritation, is wandering around, knowing something is different.
Yesterday afternoon, Conan did something he has never, ever done before — he jumped onto the bathroom vanity and looked skyward for about 30 minutes. My husband and I were just amazed. Maybe Zoe was telling him that she was okay and happy, or maybe she was telling him to get the heck off of her sink. I’m so glad that they have a website like this for people to share their immense grief over the loss of beloved pets. They will live in our hearts forever, but we wish they could be here for just one more day.
With love always, Zoe-butt,
| Zoe |
| Stephanie & Matt Henderson |