Lessons from an old cat

Kiwi came to us as a rescue cat, taken from her mother before she was ready to be weened, we saw her at the vet still with her litter-mates. She was the only one who looked her in the eye and meowed, the others hissed. The vet said that she'd be a small cat, and she came home with us that day.

As she grew up, she imprinted on Alicia Star as the mommy cat. She tried to nurse from Alicia Star even as she was bigger than Alicia Star! Alicia was the roshi of the cat brood, indeed the roshi of 7 Myrtle Avenue. Alicia accecpted Kiwi as her pal and companion though her cat son Alex remained her favorite.

During the years at Myrtle Avenue, Kiwi grew to be a 20+lb cat who loved to eat, loved to be in the bamboo garden sleeping in the sun, and who was loyal to me through thick and thin. She wasn't the favorite, and she always wanted approval from the senior cats.

Kiwi would follow me as I walked along the railroad tracks behind the stream at Myrtle Street, lagging a bit behind Alex and Alicia Star, but always wanting to be part of the pack. While the others walked with me on the railroad rail, she'd be content to walk along the railroad ties with us. Sometimes I'd carry her across the stream, sometimes we'd "ditch her" and leave her to figure how to cross on her own. Her great girth limited her atheletic prowess and I never guessed that she'd become the 6 1/2 lb fragile being with a big heart that she is today.

As arthritus fused her lower spine, her ability to get around became more and more limited. Her colon stopped processing properly and she had some incidents where she became impacted and needed vet intervention to continue living. We started her on stool softener, lactulose drops twice a day. This worked for a while.


Then the vet discovered that her kidneys were failing. We started giving her fluids every now and then as supportive therapy. Didn't expect her to live long, but since she was still interested and such a wonderful companion, I gave her a spot on the floor and kept up her daily therapy.

It took me too long to realize that she needed a heating pad, but I bought her a big one ( large enough for Carol and Kiwi to be on it together) and set her up with an incondesent lightbulb over her for radient heat.

The wonderful vet Bill Eshthimer told me that Kiwi needed supplimental fluids via needle under the skin a few times a week. I had given fluids to cats before, and while it's important therapy, in the past it always signaled end of life approaching. I started giving Kiwi fluids, even though my technique was poor.

Unlike most cats, Kiwi allowed me to give her fluids despite my clumsyness with the needle, and patiently waited for the process to complete most times. Her docile nature served her well and I improved with practice. Dr. Bill helped me to learn sterile technique and patiently tutored me in how to insert the needle properly. As I gained in skill, the pain inflicted on the cat diminished, and it got easier to be regular.

She became incontenent, so I gave her fresh bedding twice or three times a day, washing her towels a few times a week. She had some more crises with blockages, and a stand in vet suggested a diet change that really helped her to be back on regular with her digestion.


Her inability to move around has made keeping her clean tough, but she still relates to Carol and wakes me every morning with a squak and a purrr. Kiwi wakes me every morning with her squalk-meow just before the alarm is to go off at 5am. I change her bedding, feed her and give her fluids every other morning.

The yoga of service work, the zen of practice in this tiny corner of the room has been a blessing for me. In one way, the question is should I be doing for a human instead of an "animal"? The answer that I've found is that for me this is the practice that calls me now, knowing that it won't go on indefinately, knowing that it won't end well, but taking each moment together as a gift.

So while I thought that this was a kitty hospice commitment that would last a few weeks, it's turned out to be a blessing that has continued for a couple years now. I'm so grateful for the time with her, and while it's been difficult for both of us, her good attitude and appreciation for what we do for her is both a reward and a lesson.

I used to think that you should "put down" ( kill) a cat with such limitations but when the standard is "are they in pain?" and do they still want to live?, the answer is quite different. The effort is sometimes taxing, but the reward is subtle and lesson one that only unfolds over time.

The service to this small being brings me joy, and wonder. How is it that our love can be sustained through such trials? This small being has such a big heart, and it's a small thing to be able to repay her for the years that she nourished my spirit, for the times that I was too harsh, for the times that I ignored her simple needs. Yet the mystery of life isn't revealed, but the benefits are unrolling as we breathe. Precious being, thanks for this morning, thanks for this day and the time with Sharon, Kiwi, Carol and Snowy.

Time to go to work to earn the money to support this tribe.

Thanks