Goodbye to a friend

This week Jeff and I said goodbye to an old friend. Our outside cat, CeCe, is gone. We are pretty sure she won’t be coming back. CeCe was one of five offspring from a cat that Sarah brought home when she was a junior in high school. The cat had wandered onto the football field where the high school band (Sarah played the flute) was practicing. Some of the boys in the band starting teasing the cat and this infuriated Sarah. Of course, she had to rescue it and bring it home and of course, it turned out to be a female cat already pregnant. Soon we had one momma cat and 4 kittens. CeCe was the only one that eventually survived to adulthood. They were officially “Sarah’s cats” and all five of them even made it into one pose of Sarah’s senior pictures.
It’s remarkable how some things become a part of the background of one’s life, day in and day out; almost unnoticeable because of their constant presence. CeCe was there through all the ups and downs of our constantly changing family life; a faithful, if not somewhat ambivalent, companion. For the first half of her life, CeCe was a definite loner. Disdaining any overly affectionate displays, she kept to herself and was often gone for days at a time, but never failed to return to her place of birth. She did not like to be petted much and only accepted our offerings of food if she had not been successful hunting down field mice or young rabbits. In the ensuing years, we acquired an inside cat, Simon. I guess we would have let CeCe come in also, if she had wanted it, but she was way too independent to accept such a life. They often sat and stared at each other, one on each side of the screen door on the porch. It reminded me of the story of the Prince and the Pauper. I wondered if they each longed to live the life of the other; Simon, longing for a taste of the freedom of the open fields and the excitement of the hunt, and CeCe, contemplating the comfort provided by indoor heating and cooling and cozy couches. On one occasion when the door was left ajar, just such an exchange took place. I had noticed the cat lying under the table, but just thought it was Simon, until I noticed Simon going around the corner of the house. They had indeed changed places, each slipping for a time into the place of their fantasies.
The years flew by, each with it’s own joys and sorrows. CeCe was there through it all, sometimes curled up in some strange place, sometimes proudly depositing her latest kill by the front door. The children left home and Sarah decided to become a “dog” person, acquiring Max, who came with her for frequent visits home. CeCe made her displeasure at this turn of events known by disappearing every time Max came, only returning when he was gone. The grandkids came along and a new generation tried to befriend her, usually without much success. In time, Jeff and I moved next door to help take care of mom and Nathan and his family lived in our house for a short while. We took Simon with us and he adapted well to living with mom (which is another story in itself). I thought for sure CeCe would follow us to mom’s house or maybe just leave for good when our house eventually remained empty for a few years. It became part of Jeff’s daily routine to cross the road and give her food and water. She was usually there to greet him, glad, I suppose for some reminder that we had not totally forgotten her. We fixed her a box with blankets on the porch to provide a shelter during the winter. We could not, however, do much about the family of raccoons who often vied with her for a free meal. Jeff finally had to resort to standing nearby while CeCe ate, guarding against the masked marauders.
It was during this time, perhaps because CeCe was getting older and depending more on our offerings and less on her declining strength for hunting, that she started to make friendly advances towards the humans that had been part of her life for so long. Or maybe she was just getting lonely from the lack of activity around our house. Whatever the reason, Jeff noticed she would come up, rub against his leg after she ate, something she had not been prone to do. She would even let him bend down and pet her, rewarding him with her purr. I guess either absence made the heart grow fonder or advancing age brought with it a softening of heart.
After mom died and we moved back into our house, I definitely noticed CeCe’s friendlier attitude. When Sarah brought Max with her to visit, CeCe even let him sniff at her and would rub against him. This was quite a change from the days when Max’s presence meant CeCe’s absence. Every time we went outdoors, CeCe was there by our side, rubbing and purring and wanting to be petted. Sometimes, when I would sit in the porch swing, she would jump into my lap. Every morning, as I made my way groggily to the coffee pot, I would notice her little head bobbing back and forth in the French door window. She knew we were up and was demanding her breakfast and morning attention. One of us would still have to stand guard every night while she ate. The raccoons were still around and they were very bold, coming within a few inches of us before deciding to turn tail and run.
CeCe spent most of her time on the porch now, running to greet us each time we left or came home. Every time that Sarah came to visit, she would point out how thin CeCe was looking. She convinced us that CeCe was probably having a hard time eating the dry cat food we fed her and that we should start feeding her soft food. So began the quest for a soft food that was not messy and smelly. I remembered long ago when we had Midnight and Tushie (our previous indoor cats) that we fed them Tender Vittles, which came in a pouch and was soft but not smelly. However, trips to Wal-mart and even Pet Smart failed to turn up any of this food. Sarah could not even find it in Owensboro. So we settled on some little cups of meat and gravy made by Meow Mix. It had a tinfoil top that could be pulled off and the contents of the cup could be dumped all at one time with little mess. This simple switch in food provided us with some of the most funny and satisfying moments in our relationship with any pet we’ve had. The way CeCe gulped down each cup of Meow Mix was so funny to watch. She became obsessed with it and each time we walked out the door, her loud, insistent meowing often got her an extra cup, just so we could see her enjoy it so much.
Even though we mentioned it often, I guess it was just hard to believe how old CeCe was. Sarah and Jeff figured out that CeCe was fifteen years old, which would make her 105 (if a cat year counts the same as a dog’s - 7 human years). We doubted she would make it through last winter, but she did. She rarely left the porch for very long and as this summer’s heat took its toll, we would leave the porch fan on to provide her with some relief. It was obvious how much she enjoyed both our company and her new feeding routine, but even though she was eating well, she didn’t seem to be putting on any weight. And then two days ago, when I came in to get my coffee, her little head was not bobbing in the window and I knew something was amiss. I walked down the road and along the line of trees, calling her name and listening for any answering meow. When she still wasn’t there after we got back from work, Jeff and I both knew that her time had surely come. I have often heard that animals go off by themselves when they sense they are dying and I believe this is what CeCe did. And so one of the backdrops of our lives is gone, leaving behind pleasant memories.
It is amazing how strong the relationship is between humans and their pets; but I believe this is one of God’s gifts to give us pleasure in life. I really didn’t mean for this post to be so long, but it seemed to help me to write down all my thoughts about CeCe. Jeff also made a slide show of our favorite pictures of CeCe to remember and I have included it here.