An ancient Abyssinian cat brings a message of lasting love.
Miss Clairol was always a lady, and at age fifteen she had not changed, but I knew something was wrong even though her purr had never subsided. A trip to the vet revealed a growth in her throat. I had decided there would be no heroics, due to her age, and brought her home with antibiotics and steroids.
She ate chicken and cuddled and purred, but grew weaker, and on the third day when she refused food, and the purring stopped, I decided that enough was enough. That morning I tried to put her in the carrier and she struggled for the first time in her life -- she didn't want to go anywhere. She wanted to stay home and die under my bed. I told her that it was all okay because Reva, our German shepherd, would be waiting for her.
Clairol was born in my house and raised on a bottle because of her blocked tear duct. (She could not smell to nurse.) Reva helped me raise her, and from that point on Reva was Claire's surrogate mom. For the rest of her life, Claire had trouble now and then with upper respiratory infections. But she grew fat and happy and played just like any other cat. Reva watched over her, making sure that the other dogs didn’t bother her while she ate, and making sure that her face and nose was always clean. Reva seemed to understand exactly what Claire needed.
When Reva left us in 2001, Claire shifted her adulation to Cajun, my big black and red male dog. Maybe it was because he also was a German shepherd, but I suspect it was more due to his sweet nature. The two of them spent many long hours cuddling and kissing and really were quite maudlin at times.
So that morning on the way to the clinic, I explained to Claire that she was going to a place where she wouldn't have any trouble breathing, and when she got there she should just go to Reva. It was a great comfort to me, picturing Reva there to greet her, and part of the family being together again.
I brought Cajun into the clinic with me so he could understand what was happening. Unfortunately it was quite a struggle with Claire. She didn't want to lie on her side because she couldn't breathe. The doc finally decided to put her under first with a simple shot under the skin. It took Claire about ten minutes to go to sleep. I put a little blanket on the floor for her, so she went to sleep with her dog licking and cleaning her face. Then, they had a lot of trouble finding a vein. Poor Claire at 4 pounds was so frail that the doctor finally explained she wasn't breathing, and she technically was gone, but her heart was still beating so he was going to have to put the shot in her heart. I found an excuse to leave the room by taking Cajun back to the car. He gave one final lick to her tail, which was hanging off the edge of the table, and then followed me out.
I had some guilt about missing her last moments, even though I knew she didn't know anything. I still needed to collect her body, which they were putting in a box for me. So I came back in. A red and white cattle dog greeted me in the lobby, and I spoke to it as I walked by. Then someone called my name.
I turned, and to my surprise, I saw my friend Kelli sitting with the cattle dog. I knew her from years prior when we boarded horses together. Later she became my pet sitter, and so she was familiar with my whole clan. I hadn't seen Kelli in about seven or eight years. We hugged each other, and I tearfully explained that I had just lost Miss Claire.
"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She kept hugging me and hugging me. Her cattle dog nudged my leg, and so I bent down to pet her.
The cattle dog greeted me eagerly, and as she thrust her nose into my hand and licked it, Kelli said, "This is Reva."
I was too stunned and shook up to really react to this at first. It was implicit that Kelli's Reva was named after mine. In fact, Kelli was almost apologetic about it, as if she had stolen the name or something! She kept explaining, "It just seemed to fit her.”
The dog was very urgently trying to keep my attention the whole time. Finally, Kelli asked me if I still had Reva! I smiled and said, "No, Reva left us in 2001 when she was nearly 15. But she is clearly still with us."
I could see that Kelli immediately knew what I was saying. She relaxed then and hugged me about four more times. The Cattle Dog Reva kept watching to make sure that I absolutely got the message.
From that moment on, I felt a certain peace for Claire. I knew that someone had been listening, and that she was in a very safe place.
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Puffy strays and something happens to make him decide he will never run away again. Judged "Outstanding" at the 2013 Writers Digest SPB Awards. Named among the best in family-friendly media, products and services 2019 by the Mom’s Choice Awards®.
