A Tale of Two Kitties

The years 2017 and 2018 were two of the most difficult ones of my life. First, I lost my beloved Jack Russell Terrier quite suddenly when she was 14 years old. A few months after that, our cat, Cloe, passed away at 17 years old.

Then, in the fall of 2017, my husband, John, who was already being treated for kidney disease, was diagnosed with an inoperable cancer. It was only a question of time before he, like the pets before him, would be gone from my life.

Things were looking pretty bleak, and I didn’t have much that was good to look forward to. John had been my love for 43 years and I couldn’t imagine life without him.

An Unexpected Gift

That spring, my daughter Corrie informed me that she wanted to give me a cat for my birthday, should I be agreeable to caring for one. At the time, she said it would be good for me to have a new animal around. However, after the fact, she confessed she had been thinking about the difficult times to come at the inevitable conclusion of her dad’s illness.

My daughter was already familiar with the healing power of animals, having been gifted a tortoiseshell kitten by her father and me on her 17th birthday. She had named the cat Cloe, and often referred to her as “Angel Kitty” since Cloe was instrumental in helping her to cope with clinical depression.

After Corrie left for college, Cloe became more mine than my daughter’s. She reasoned that she would often be away from home and she didn’t want to take Cloe away from the comfort of the home she had always known.

Now, some 17 years later, Corrie hoped that a new furry companion would provide the same comfort to me during the challenging months to come. However, life was busy and complicated. Between taking John to his appointments and caring for him at home, I wasn’t sure if I was ready for another pet.

After thinking about it for a couple of weeks, I thought maybe Corrie was right. John and I were used to having animals about the place and a cat could handle being left alone for long periods of time, if we ended up spending hours in the emergency department, which happened more than I care to remember.

The Search

So, one weekend Corrie and I went searching for my perfect companion. We tried the local animal shelter first, entering one enclosed cat room after another. In one, I was summarily snubbed by the several older cat residents there. In fact, none of the kitties at the shelter seemed right for me.

Feeling defeated, we had begun the drive home when I remembered the pet supply store that offered space to a cat rescue. We weren’t hopeful, since they didn’t normally have many animals there, but we thought it couldn’t hurt to look.

We made our way to the back of the store where the glass-fronted cages were and could hardly believe our eyes when we saw an 8-month-old tortoiseshell kitten in one of them. She was so much like Cloe, the cat I had recently lost that I was instantly drawn to her.

As soon as she was placed in my arms, she started purring, nuzzling and head butting me. It seemed she liked me too! I decided then and there that we were meant to be together.

A Bumpy Transition

There was some paperwork to complete, so I was only able to bring Aggie, as I came to call her, home the following day. I was anxious and excited to pick her up and bring her to her forever home. But, as soon as I let her out of the carrier, she immediately sought a place to hide.

This turned out to be under the basement stairs. For a few weeks, I had to go downstairs to visit with her, but she would always come to see me when she heard my voice. She felt safe with me but, taken as a whole, the house was a hugely scary place to the young cat.

Eventually, she became comfortable upstairs, but every noise the house made in the course of a day, sent her running for cover. It might be the old Lazy Boy chair creaking as I worked the lever for the footstool, or the garbage can lid bumping closed. I would say, “It’s alright, Aggie,” and that seemed to reassure her that she was in no immediate danger and bring her back into the room.

Like all animals, Aggie’s unique personality began to shine through. Like most cats, she is an accomplished climber and developed the habit of occasionally perching on top of one of the high-backed chairs in my dining room.

Whenever she jumps up to sit with me, she first greets me with a head bump and kneading. She will often flop down on the floor in front of me and roll over to have her tummy rubbed.

Just the Two of Us

Just as Aggie had begun to settle in, John died. It was just four months after Aggie had come to live with us. As my daughter had hoped, Aggie became the companion who daily comforted and cheered me.

Often, Aggie follows me around the house and to this day, as she rests her paws on my chest and looks up at me with those green/gold eyes before settling herself on my lap, a delightful feeling of happiness and contentment washes over me. I frequently find myself giggling with the sheer joy of it!

I am so blessed to have found my own angel cat to journey with me during this new chapter of my life.