Eight years ago, we went to a home that had little Siamese kittens for sale. We sat on the floor and watched those kittens do their thing. They all crawled on us, curious about the new smells that invaded their home. Time passed and some of the kittens wandered off, back to playing with each other. One kitten would go off and explore, then return to my lap, then go off and explore some more. This one little female kitten had my attention. The owner of the home opened the front door to take something from a visitor and this little kitten made a charge for the door. Her attempt to explore the world outside was stopped by the lady of the house. She then made several attempts to scurry upstairs to explore the upper world, but was again stopped. I fell in love with her sense of adventure, mixed with the desire to cuddle her. She was only five weeks old but ready to see the world. She certainly had to join our family. Zoey seemed a name that fit her personality and into her first adventure in a car she went.
I had a home office and she spent much of her time on my desk, discovering all the interesting things that sat there. Zoey was a true adventurer and her heart was bigger than her body. She would lay on my desk and look up me with those amazing blue eyes and all I could do was smile and pet her. When she was only seven weeks old, she attempted another amazing adventure, a leap from my desk. This time she hit my plastic chair mat and spread out like a pancake. She was dazed for a second and shook it off, seemingly please with the feat yet perhaps not so pleased with the landing.
Within hours she began to walk slower and slower. She hardly moved and seemed nothing like herself. Her walk became painful and with each step she shook the paw she had just put pressure on. Her walk became step, shake paw, step, shake paw and so on. She was clearly in pain. We took her to the vet and after x-rays, they found that she had torn her abdominal wall in such a way that her body fluids were mixing and killing her. They would only attempt the surgery if we signed a paper stating they could put her down if they felt the damage was too severe. They performed emergency surgery and we brought her home.
I sat with her hour after hour. She spent day after day on my lap. I stroked her and cuddled her, pleading with her to pull through. She did and in the process we had developed a very special bond. Zoey and I had somehow become a part of each other. I have had animal companions before that I loved, but this time it was very special.
It seems that the day she felt better, she was off on adventures, chasing flies and stalking spiders. Zoey, the adventurer was back in action.
Zoey discovered rubber bands and loved to chase them. I bought an entire bag of them and would sit on the floor shooting dozens. She would attack them until they lay still. Once sure that they were dead, she poised herself for another rubber band attack. Eventually I discovered she was eating them and our play had to stop. I did find that a good replacement was the rubber bracelets, like the Live-strong ones. She loved chasing them even more, and I was sure she could not eat them.
Again, her high energy diminished and she became sick. She began throwing up and laying on her side. Again to the vet having no idea of what was going on. Again to the x-ray machine and again she needed surgery and again there was no guarantee that she would pull through. She had eaten one of the rubber bracelets and pieces were all through her digestive system. She was very, very ill. A large sized piece was jammed in the area where her large and small intestines joined. In fact, the vet suggested that she may not survive the surgery and that if the damage was too great, it would be best to put her to sleep while she was already unconscious.
Zoey survived and after weeks of nurturing her, the adventurous kitty made a full recovery. We spent years playing and cuddling, and simply enjoying each other. We moved a couple times which fed her sense of adventure. One move was to South Carolina and she enjoyed two days and 800 miles of sightseeing.
While there, we became even closer. I worked retail and had a varied schedule. My work was close to home and often I would stop at a burger place and return home with a shake, fries and a burger. She would scurry to my side to share tastes if the shake but vanilla was her only consideration. The fries were something she was passionate about. She did not like the meaty part but the hard crunchy ends. So I broke of the ends for her while I kept the middles.
My wife told me that when she heard my truck coming down the street, never confusing it with any other trucks, she always ran from wherever she was to meet me at the door.
Wherever she was, she would stop to run to me when I called to her, unless she was laying in the sunlight. If she was sun bathing, I would call out "Zoey girl" and she would turn her head and squint at me, then lay back down. She never failed to acknowledge me, ever.
At 6 years old she began to slow down just as we were moving north again. We got into the new house and she got sicker and sicker. Nothing seemed to help, even the vet had no idea what to do. She could not even walk any longer. She kept falling over and seeing her like this was breaking my heart. This wild crazy Zoey girl was in a world of trouble. She would lay under our bed and always came out when I called to her, now she wouldn't move. I called a great vet who had seen her in SC and he said I may have to let her go. There was no way ! He said God had given animals into our care and that if they were suffering and in pain, with no hope to heal, we needed to be kind and assist them in passing.
I found myself knotted up with emotions and had no idea what to do. My daughter suggested I try her vet. In the middle of a huge snow storm, I prepared, with all the hope I could muster, to drive 50 minutes away hoping this vet could help.
The vet x-rayed and tested but had no answer as to her condition. She did tell me that with every possible tool at her disposal, she could not find her kidneys. It was if they had disappeared. When the vet brought her back to me after the tests, Zoey mustered an amazing amount of strength and climbed up the sleeve of my leather Harley jacket and wrapped herself around my neck.
The vet explained how there was no hope for her to survive and that she was in great pain. The clinic was now closed and I spent an hour trying to make the right decision. A decision that I believed would be right for her, was so terribly wrong for me. That day, I left without my best friend. I have never been the same. It has been over a year since that horrible day and as I write this, tears fill my eyes. I cried and was miserable for a very long time and it was one of the absolutely worst moments of my life. I could go on for a very long time about the fun we had and the pain I felt and how much she is missed. That is not the point.
The point is that, if I could love and feel love from Zoey, who could not talk, write me notes, buy me gifts, tell me when I disappointed her, tell me when I made her happy, why is it so stinking hard to love those around us who can and do communicate their feelings to us?
Then why is it so hard for us to set aside hurts and insults and acknowledge what wonderful things we get from those who love and forgive? Why is it so hard to comply with God's desire that we love one another ? If we have the ability to say, write, do things and give gifts that express our love for one another, why don't we?
If a Siamese cat named Zoey could give so much and make me feel the things I felt, why is it so hard for us? If a Siamese cat named Zoey could leave such an empty spot in my world, what can we learn from her? Perhaps it is to just love somebody. Everybody.
I learned things from her I will never forget. I refer to my time with her as Zoey's Legacy and our relationship is something I will always treasure.
(This was part one, join me on the 1st for part two, about my friend, Toby the cat.)
God's peace and blessings to each one of you.