Callie was a very old cat. She was 18 years old, which makes her death both easier and more difficult at the same time. It's easier, because when a pet get that old, you realize that death is inevitably just around the corner. For her, it was kidney failure that was the true determining factor, though she was also suffering from an abscessed tooth. It's much harder, because she has been a part of more than half of my life, and has made an impact on me in many ways.
I wanted a cat from a very young age. I loved them as a child, and would even convince my mom occasionally to let me bring a stray into our apartment occasionally when I was about 5 years old. It wasn't until we moved into the Missouri house when I was 11 that my childhood dream could be fulfilled. I was able to choose a kitten, and the prospect was thrilling to me.
The day I got to bring home my long awaited kitten was a major event in my young life. I had about an hour or so to spend with her before I had to go to a piano lesson with my mom. I reluctantly bid farewell to my new friend and left. When I excitedly returned an hour later, my heart was broken to find my kitten gasping for breath on the brink of death. She drowned during out short absence, and passed away not long after we returned home. I was distraught. I couldn't understand how something I had prayed and longed for over so long could given and taken away in such as short time. It was the first time death had ever really impacted my young life, and it was hard for me to handle.
 |
| She would only occasionally sleep with her paw on the nose like this. Most of the time it was just the tucked paws cat loaf pose. That seemed to be her favorite. |
A couple of months later, I was able to get another kitten. Again, it was a calico, and I named her Callie, with the un-originality of a child. Callie made getting through the death of my first cat easier. I loved her from the first and shouldered the responsibilities of caring for her from feeding to scooping her litter box. She brought new joy into my life.
Not everything was a bed of roses for Callie in Missouri, however. She had to deal with ungentle and sometimes mean children. Gerrit would sometimes put her in a Walmart bag and swing her around in a full circle perpendicular to the floor, which must have been terrifying for her! We'd all chase her around sometimes and tease her in various ways. Occasionally, if we scared her enough, she'd run and "floof" up her tail. She quite literally had quite a hair-raising childhood!
Because we weren't as nice to her as we should have been, she was a cat that was given to biting and clawing when upset. Often enough, she'd just bite you for no apparent reason. In spite of this, I still thought of her as one of my best friends; we just had a complicated relationship.
She made the move to Virginia with the rest of us, and I think the new, bigger house was a nice change for her. We had picked up another cat, George, in Missouri and then ended up with Santie in Virginia as well. Callie never got along all that famously with either of them, nor was she all that thrilled with Pacu when he came along. I guess it's one of the ways Callie was like me, she didn't make friends easily and wasn't necessarily the most lovable.
 |
| This is probably the closest Callie ever got to Pacu. She was eying him suspiciously the whole time. |
Callie outlived both of the cats and then eventually survived Pacu too. Unlike Callie's death, there was little peace for me when he died, because I irrationally felt, and still do to some extent sadly, feel responsible for his death. He liked to come in and sleep on my bed in the mornings, which I'd fairly often let him do if I didn't need all that sound of sleep (sound sleep was impossible with him frequently moving and taking up the middle of the bed pushing me to the side!) That morning, though he was whining to come in to my room, I was really tired so I just told him to be quiet and left him outside. When I did wake up, he was dead. He'd been hit by a car and killed instantly. The shock of it was devastating to me. I couldn't help wondering if I had just let him into my room, if everything would have been different. Through that difficult experience, Callie was there. She was one of the big factors that helped comfort me over time.
She was always there. After my returns from college or even just a long trip, I was always excited to see her. Having a connection to her, to some soul that depended on me, it mattered. When I decided to move to Utah, I knew from the first that I would not bring her. It seemed cruel to take an old cat away from her long-time home, to make her take another cross-country trip at her age. Leaving her was hard, but it always felt like the right thing to do.
 |
| This isn't a good picture, but it demonstrates how she'd always find any accessible cups with water. If she did, she'd typically knock them over eventually. |
The day she died, mom called before my alarm went off. I knew that she was taking Callie into the vet, as she'd been having problems again, and I also knew that the call signaled bad news. I couldn't face it, so I didn't answer. I spent a few minutes of mixed drowsiness and wakefulness thinking about it. I prayed that she could live again and told God that I would do what was necessary to help her, but I think I sensed even then that the answer was no.
When I talked to Mom about the situation, it became increasingly clear in my mind that I couldn't force Callie to keep living with pain and a poor quality of life just to satisfy my selfishness. So, I had to decide to let her go. It was much harder to actually say it, harder than it probably should have been. I couldn't drag things out, however because I had to get ready for work. The whole time, I was thinking about how my longest and most reliable friend would be gone before I left the house.
 |
| You never knew when you'd find Callie sleeping in some strange place. She especially liked the recesses of closets and even somehow in the box-springs or something inside the beds! |
I tried to be normal. I don't like to let people see my sorrows. What good does that really ever do? It only burdens others with something that shouldn't be theirs to bear. I think I mostly succeeded. I don't think anyone could tell. Providentially, I had decided earlier in the week that rather than going to the temple on Wednesday, like I do unless there is something else going on, that I would wait until Friday this week since I went for ward temple day last Saturday. After work was over, I drove straight there.
I can't say that it really made me feel any better. I prayed and cried again in the Celestial Room and spent a long time waiting for something to change. I didn't feel any better, but I did remember that I know there is a plan, a plan much bigger than I or anyone else on earth really understands. I remembered that the veil of tears is only temporary, though it sometimes seems impenetrable. I still felt miserable, but at least I knew that because of Christ, the misery wouldn't last forever.
What really happened is that the temple made me a little better, a little less selfish. I didn't realize it until I came home. Mom called again shortly after I arrived. I already knew she was dead, and personally, I would always prefer not to talk about it. It just seems to make it worse for me to discuss these things. It wasn't what I thought I needed, but in a strange way, it was, because it wasn't about me. The temple allowed me to be a little better than I am inclined to be. I could see farther beyond my own grief and take the opportunity in a very small way to ease another's pain. I thank God that he quite miraculously makes me better than I am.
I will miss Callie in many ways, more than I already have been over these past few months. I will miss the feel of her velvet fur. I will miss her jumping up on me and letting me cuddle her. I'll miss her kneading me with her paws, even though sometimes her claws would painfully become involved. I'll miss her crawling under the covers with me sometimes and settling down to be a purring, warm ball such that I wouldn't want to move because I didn't want to disturb her. I will miss seeing her jump and play. I will even miss her humorously unpredictable personality. She will not be forgotten and I'm so grateful that I have had her in my life. She has taught me many lessons over the years in all kinds of strange ways, and I am better for it.
