The year is starting off on a rough note, particularly for this Friday the thirteenth. Today we had to say goodbye to one of our oldest remaining cats, Sassy… better known to all friends and family as simply “Fat Cat.” (Pictured here in happier times doing her Yoda impersonation.)
I first met Sassy and her sister Spider while volunteering at a Humane Society animal shelter in 1992. As happened to many of the volunteers there, a time came when the shelter was at its maximum capacity for cats and I volunteered to take the two homeless sisters home “just for a while” until things eased up at the shelter. Of course, as everyone knows, once they come to your house you can’t take them back to the lonely nights at the cages. (You can see a picture of her sister Spider acting cute here.)
They were both small when I got them, but it quickly became apparent that Sassy was the essence of the “runt of the litter.” She was tiny and, while her sister quickly grew to normal proportions, she remained a runt. Spider was “fixed” on schedule, but our vet was worried about operating on such a small cat and Sassy’s operation was delayed for nearly a year. Finally we gave up and had them spay her. As sometimes happens with late spayings, Sassy became lethargic and became enormously fat. She wound up looking like a furry football walking on toothpicks.
While that may sound adorable, fat cats tend to develop health problems and about five years ago she developed diabetes. She nearly died from that, but the vet is a miracle worker and soon had her back on her feet. However, she had to be on shots of insulin twice a day for the rest of her life – a ritual which immediately shaped the lives of my wife and I for the years to come. Trips and visits had to be scheduled around Ms. Sassy or a sitter had to be found who was qualified to administer injections. We never resented it. She was worth every minute and each inconvenience.
This winter, her 17th, went hard on her. Complications from the long term treatment set in and led to other organ failures pressing in. Finally, it came time to say goodbye as her advanced age and complication conditions made it impractical to try anything else and her quality of life had faded and she was a shadow of herself. You can see a couple of other pictures of her if you like.
Fat Cat stealing our Bassett’s bed.
She’s gone now but, as I have in the past, I take advantage of my small bully pulpit here because I wanted others to know that she had been here and she touched our lives for nearly two decades. I suppose there was nothing all that unusual or special about her to the eyes of an outsider, but I just wanted you to know that she was a good cat. She was always a very good cat. Goodbye, Fat Cat. I will miss you.