Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Last week, we said good-bye to one of our Fur-Babies. Clara had been with us for over sixteen years, and was a true delight - affectionate, gentle, and a terrific lap cat. She had a rough start in life - immediately after her birth, she and her siblings were crammed into a box and thrown into a dumpster by some heartless asshole who didn't have the brains to spay their female cat. A good samaritan happened to find the box and took it to the veterinary hospital that cares for our pets. Unfortunately, all of Clara's siblings were dead, and her umbilical cord was twisted so tightly around her left hind leg, that the circulation had been cut off, and she had to undergo an amputation at the tender age of one day. Soon afterward, the veterinarian told us about Clara and asked if we'd be willing to adopt her, because we already had an amputee living with us, and they hoped we'd be adventurous enough to take on another. Of course, we said yes, and six weeks later she moved in and became member number 17 of our herd. Carrying on our custom of naming our cats after musicians, we named her Clara, after Clara Schumann, an exceptional pianist, and wife of composer Robert Schumann. The incredible nurses at the vet hospital took turns caring for her - carrying her around in their tunic pockets at work, bottle feeding her every few hours around the clock, and taking her home with them at night. By the time she came home with us, she was, without a doubt, the world's most affectionate cat! Eighteen months ago, she went into kidney failure, but did very well on a regimen of daily subcutaneous fluids, special food and extra doses of love and affection from her adoring humans. There's a gigantic hole in our lives right now, but our memories of a very special little cat with a huge heart and spirit are carrying us through these difficult days.