Relocation

Moving day was Tuesday. I prepared by traveling to Atlanta on Saturday and spent the rest of the day and Sunday looking through the excess of belongings with Noel and deciding what should stay and what should go to Goodwill. We filled too many trash bags with stuff. I'd always thought that we weren't avid consumers; how do we then accumulate so much stuff?

Monday was packing day. Two packers arrived at 830a and worked until 7p, with only a short break. At the end of the day, our lives were in boxes. There was no tv, no clock to tell time, no lamps (certainly none with light bulbs). By 830, we were in bed; Noel sleeping and me trying to read. After attempting to read with one eye open and not remembering all the words, I too gave in and went to sleep.

Three o'clock in the morning and we're both up. Cleaning out the refrigerator, actually throwing out the partially used containers of everything. A stick and a half of butter, wasted in the trash. Soda cans for my brother. Boca burgers for mom. Unhooked the washer, dryer, water line to the refrigerator. Pacing around the house, waiting for the movers. They finally arrived at 10a and moved everything out until 530p. I followed with broom and vacuum. Noel left after lunch with a car loaded with everything the movers wouldn't take. Mom showed up at 3p to pick me up and had to wait on the remaining chair in a VERY cold house. We checked everything multiple times to be sure nothing was left that shouldn't be there. Yes, the metal ladder that we really don't care for did go. The driver told me that Mr. Noel told her it stayed, but I told her that I think we'd better take it just in case.

Mom baked some fish and vegetables and we were off to bed by 9. I have no memories until 6 the following morning.

After a doctor's appointment with Mom in the morning, we were off to the airport. Twenty one years in Atlanta ended officially today.

Left behind are many memories. Boxes of pictures. My growing up as an adult happened there and I'll miss the memories of friends and former colleagues. I'll miss the mild winter, the great long fall season and my wonderful gardens. My mother and our wonderful neighbor. I'm glad to leave behind the virulent anti-gay attitudes, intolerant baptists and other fringe religious zealots. This is a state that wasted time, effort and tax dollars on an anti-gay marriage amendment to the state constitution. A drastic step for no purpose. After years of anti-gay resolutions, laws, disregard for gay person's rights and wills, the amendment did it to me. Too many years of paying too much in taxes for that personal abuse by the state. It's over. No more taxes to an unfriendly place.

Aftermath

I woke several times in the middle of the night. No one came to greet me when I stirred or to rub my face with hers.

When the alarm went off at 5 am, no one jumped up and began purring at me and rubbing me to welcome the new day. No one joined me in the bathroom while I shaved and got myself ready to leave for the gym.

All was quiet. There is a large void from the absence of our 10 pound feline friend. It's clear that her personality and attitude filled the rooms at the apartment. Now it seems so empty.

I'd placed newspapers around in the event she had an accident when I was away or not watching. An added benefit was that she enjoyed reclining on newspapers. Most Sundays I'd read the paper on the floor or the bed and she'd join me by settling onto the page I was most interested in at the moment. I picked all of them up and put them on the recycling pile. I cleaned up the makeshift bed that I'd put together for her near her food and water dishes. I emptied the water but haven't yet been able to empty the food dish. It remains in its usual place. Her treats on the kitchen floor that she didn't get a chance to have on Saturday are still there as well.

No one greeted me this evening upon coming home from work. No one shared morsels from my plate. Right now, it's about time to turn in for the day. If she were here, she'd be reminding me that it's time to go now.

Samantha, 1992-2008

Samantha left us this afternoon.

Saturday and Sunday night she was unable to sleep and was dragging herself around the apartment. Several times throughout the night, I woke to search for her. Found her lying in the middle of the floor and she greeted me with her questioning sound when I happened on her; found her wedged behind the computer table; found her under a chair. Each time I picked her up, I brought her to bed to rest beside me for a while. After twenty minutes or so she was off, dragging herself across the floor to another spot. She would linger in one place for five or ten minutes, then onto the next spot. Continually restless.

I passed on going to the gym this morning before work and stayed at home. I made a bed area for her on the floor with her food and water, a worn shirt of mine and Noel's, and placed a suitcase and other objects around so that she'd stay in the area and not hurt herself.

She hadn't been drinking, but with a straw she allowed me to give her a drink. She tried to eat one of her treats, but it was too difficult and she gave up.

After a tearful goodbye, I went to work. I called a friend, Kath, and left her a message that I thought Samantha was dying and I needed to talk. She called me back and my emotions got the best of me. She told me not to give up yet and that if Samantha was fighting, we should give her the best opportunity to do so. She found a vet, made an appointment for me and told me to go home and take her to the vet.

I got home and found her lying on the living room floor. She called for me when I walked into the room. She managed to get out of her padded area and crossed the living room. I picked up her weak body, laid her on a towel and took her to the car. She talked off and on the whole way. She laid on the car seat and whenever I was silent, she called for me until I told her I was there.

We found the vet's office and I carried her in--she gripping my wrist with her right paw and periodically trying to rub her nose and cheek on my hand. Patrons in the vets office were intrigued by her. "She's so good, you don't need a carrier to bring her here!"

"She's very sick," I said. "Otherwise she'd be stressed and have to be in her carrier."

The vet was very gentle, empathetic and concerned about her. Aging cats often have kidney problems, so we had blood tests run. Blood tests were normal. She suggested an x-ray to see if she had any tumors. X-rays didn't reveal anything. Perhaps she has an infection. She received an anti-inflammatory and an antibiotic and some fluids to rehydrate her.

While waiting for her, another friend, Mark, called and said that Kath let him know what was happening. We chatted about Samantha and her symptoms and in a few moments Samantha was delivered from her treatments, so I excused myself to hurry her home.

She was more alert and relaxed afterwards, although still weak. On the way home I kept my one hand on her all the way and she talked all the way home. Once I brought her in and laid her down, she fell asleep.

After a good rest this afternoon, she left us.

Thank you, Samantha, for sharing your life with us. We'll miss you.

Aging

Eleven years ago next month we visited the Cobb Animal Shelter and a black tortoise shell 5 year old cat named Samantha put the sales charm on me and within an hour she was in a box in the car going home.

Getting close to our eleventh year together, you always know that once they get into the teens, they may not be with you much longer; but as long as things seem to be going well with their health, you always look ahead into the future and you see them there with you.

The year 2007 began with her annual check up in January and the vet remarking on how good she looks; appears younger than her years! In the spring I accepted a job here in Philadelphia and several weeks after that Noel drove her up to stay with me--for her, a long day in the car of crying and car sickness.

As she always does, she took on the role of looking out for me, keeping track of my whereabouts and learning my new routines. About an hour before bedtime each evening, she begins coaxing me to the bedroom. When I arrive home from the office, she greets me at the door. Wherever I'm located at in the apartment, she's right near by, always aware of my activities.

During the summer, I noticed her eating habits change. She began eating much less (she'd always eaten well) and lost a little bit of weight. She'd been on diet food for years, so I began feeding her the higher calorie foods she used to like before the diet days. She'd attack the new with vigor and then it would trail off. So I'd try something new with a similar reaction.

One evening in October I came home from the office and wasn't greeted at the door. I found her in the bedroom staring blankly at the wall. Her eyes were dialated....she'd come down with cataracts and they'd clouded over completely. Her vision had been declining for years. For several days she moved around very little. I began coming home at lunch time to check up on her and make sure she was eating and that all was fine with her. After about a week of low activity, one lunch hour I came home to find her walking the apartment with her face against the walls. She was mapping out the apartment--the walls, doorways and locations of everything...bathroom, kitchen, her food, etc.

Since that time, her activity levels were pretty normal. If she loses track of me, she calls until I let her know where I'm located in the apartment. While she doesn't meet me at the door any longer, she waits for me on the bed because she knows that I drop off my belongings there when I walk in every evening. When she hears me, she loudly makes a sound that can only be described as a question mark put to sound.

Even without vision, she knows the time of day when things should happen. She still coaxes me to bed just before it's time.

On Friday I came home from the office and found that she'd vomited a great deal near the front door. I found her crouched in the bedroom staring strangely. I fed her some treats and she ate them willingly, but the treats came back up shortly thereafter. Even a drink of water came back up. Her soft food treat that she looks for every evening didn't stay down. She was the same in the morning, and getting weaker. She had an accident on the way to her litter box. I called a vet with a cat specialty and he couldn't see her. I found another vet who determined she had gastroenteritis and sent me off with some prescriptions. She refuses to take any of the prescriptions and isn't eating.

She drinks water regularly. Her food was tinkered with during the night, but I don't think was eaten. I'd picked up some wet food with a gravy and she's licked up the gravy but hasn't eaten a thing. And she's weaker yet than yesterday.

Our Atlanta home was sold and we'll be moving here officially in two weeks to a new house from this apartment. I was expecting she'd join us there but fear that may not happen. I've been holding her as much as I can, just as she's always been by my side when I was feeling ill or simply unhappy. If I step away for too long, she finds me. She's laying beside the chair as I write. Always my buddy.