Sol

It was May of 2000. I was standing in front of the office in Olympia, WA when one of my staff members asked if anyone could take in a kitten “for a few weeks.” I remember the white star on his nose, and I couldn’t say no. I took Sol in with the thought that it would only be a month and then he would go back to his home. Then I fell in love with the little guy, and I really hoped he would get to stay with me. Thankfully, we got to spend over 18 years together. 

He was a dog-like cat in that he loved being around people, belly rubs, and eating. 

He enjoyed being around people, including kids. I think of all of the little ones (now mostly grown) who got to love on him even if only for a visit - Cyrus, Anja, Kaia, Lucas, Grant, Miss S, Mr. C, Lil S. 

One thing he hated was the vet. When he was a year old, the vet said she was going to have to anesthetize him in order to do his exam. I found a different vet that was better with feisty cats. A few vets and states later, we've especially loved our most recent vet clinic and all of the staff. The last three times I had to take him in, the staff commented that they knew he wasn’t feeling well because they were able to see him (versus him being covered by a towel to keep him calm).

I learned what it meant to care for an elderly cat over the last year, and he honestly made the job easy. Despite having arthritic back legs, he made it in the litter box except for that last day.

On Sunday, I realized that he was doing worse than he had been. His back legs weren’t working well. I thought that Monday was going to be the end. We took him to the vet, and he had some labs drawn. Our job was to get him to eat more, and we got to take him home. I gave him a sponge bath on Tuesday which I had been doing on and off for a few months. He usually purred the whole time. He seemed to be enjoying it but wasn’t purring. On Wednesday the plan was to increase his medication for hyperthyroidism. That afternoon I checked on him, and I saw he hadn’t made it to the litter box and also hadn’t moved from that spot. I wiped him up the best that I could and made him comfortable. We went to Miss S’s 2nd grade school open house, and I was sure that he’d pass away that evening.

He just couldn’t do it. 

The kids had been checking in on him with me for the previous few days, saying goodbye when we left the home or goodnight when we went to bed. They also said goodnight with a little pet or pat on Wednesday night. I decided to make up a “bed” next to his spot and slept there on and off for a few hours. At 4 am on Thursday, I went to bed. In the morning, I made an appointment with the vet. 

The only things that made it less painful for me were that he was so close to the end on his own - it was his time, he was listless and could barely lift up his head, but his heart and lungs just kept going. I was already off from work that day, and the vet that had cared for him the most was able to see us. 

All of the staff at our vet made the experience as best as it can be, from when I called and couldn’t get out what I needed to say without crying, to walking me back to the room and passing me a box of kleenex, to the vet tenderly caring for him while giving him the sedative and then the final shot. She had mentioned before how much she loved caring for elderly kitties and told me the things I needed to hear - that I had done all that I could and that I had helped him to have a great life. 

I know it isn’t comparable to a human death, but it still hurts. It’s a bit of my history and life, and I always struggle when a chapter ends. It wasn’t just his dying, but of my no longer having a cat in my life. I know some day in a few months I’ll no longer think “I need to go feed Sol” before I go to bed or leave for work in the morning. And I’m sure in another 5 to 10 years, Miss S will beg Karl to have a kitten, and he’ll cave. But for now, what has been the cats’ bathroom or cats’ room is now the downstairs bathroom.

Yesterday night, Karl and I were talking and heard either fireworks from the state fair or thunder. He went out the front door to check and came back in with a delivery from a local florist. I had no idea who would have sent something to us and why.

The card read “Kristin & all Sol’s family - Our thoughts are with you on the loss of your beautiful boy - Dr. Julie & all at Larpenteur.”

To my beautiful boy, you will be missed. Thank you for being the first to christen me as mama.