By JANET STOICA

My Lydia died today. She was my five-year old domestic shorthair cat. Part of my heart has left with her.

 I hadn’t owned a pet since my childhood when my mom let me keep an abandoned kitten I had found in the middle of our backyard all those many years ago. The abandoned kit was fed with an eye-dropper by my mom and she grew into a most wonderful playful indoor/outdoor feline.

But my new companion, my sleek, black, and absolutely beautiful Lydia, was a special girl that I had found at the Woodstock CT Animal Shelter in March 2017. No one there knew her history as she had been found wandering about when she was rescued by the Woodstock Shelter staff. She had been given an odd name which I promptly changed once I brought my girl home with me. Lydia would be her name and I came to call her that as a tribute to the area shelter manager. I had never personally met the manager but when she phone-interviewed me and learned that I had just spent my vacation funds to cover the costs of major dental work on my Aunt Marie’s cat, she was impressed that I would do such a wonderful and expensive assist for a furry feline. She also told me that I wouldn’t have to undergo the usual background check to determine if I’d be a suitable owner for one of their rescued kits because of my previous generosity.

Lydia was one of the smallest girls in the shelter and she was also the cutest if I should say so myself. I was allowed to hold her out of her cage but it was obvious she wanted back into that cage as soon as possible. Apparently, she had not been handled as a kitten so she promptly let me know that she did not want to be held or picked up, ever. She was already litter-box trained, a big plus, and upon her entry to my home, I couldn’t help but notice that she ate like each meal was her last, making me wonder if she’d been the littlest of her litter. 

Her first day at her new home, she wandered everywhere and sprawled on every piece of furniture as if it were her personal palace. She was so shiny and well-put together and made frequent eye contact with me when she was in a relaxed position which I came to read meant that she was content and happy. She was an avid talker as well. She frequently expressed herself with chirps and many purrs when she would jump onto my lap on a cool night as I sat reading a book or watching television. She would also perform her favorite activity on my lap and that was kneading. She would have been a great bread prep lady. She would knead for quite a while and then curl up and continue purring. Her contented vocals were a great de-stressor for me too. Who wouldn’t want the gentle hum of a fuzzy and warm pet on their lap? 

Lydia was as unique as most all cat buddies. She knew it was a bad thing when she had fur-balled up a mess on my new living room rug and would immediately distance herself and watch me intently as I would run for my rug cleaner and go through the steps of cleaning the muddle, then spraying the spot, rinsing, and then blotting it dry as best I could. Of course, once that task was completed, she would let me know that her belly was empty and it was time for more food and it could never be what she had just discharged. It became a routine that a new flavor of cat food was in order. Not a problem. Fancy Feast and I were best friends to Lydia. I always told friends and relatives that I was her beloved Can Opener. Chicken was originally her everyday choice along with some dry food for her “dessert.” Other flavors she enjoyed were salmon, cod/sole/shrimp, and just maybe a very rare treat of Starkist tuna. Of course, she loved the tuna best of all but that was such a rarity. And, whenever I would decide to allow her that tuna treat, I would always wonder if she had x-ray vision or ESP as before I even opened the can, she would be at my feet waiting for a teaspoon or two. She would scarf her treat down with vigor and then walk toward me to bunt my open hand as if to say “Thanks a million!”

She could amuse herself for hours at night when I was sleeping. Her cat toys would be strewn about the living room and the swivel rocker would be facing the wall as she most likely used it as a merry-go-round. A good friend from North Carolina had sent an interesting cat toy for Lydia’s enjoyment, a motion-sensor padded fish about eight inches long. Once I had charged it up, I would place it on the floor. If Lydia touched it or walked by it, the fish would begin to wiggle and flop like a real trout. At first, she would crouch and stare but soon became our professional fish wrangler. She would tap the toy quickly and it would begin to flop and hop about the living room as she attacked it from all angles poking at it and making it flip once it had stopped its five-second non-stop routine. Sometimes she would look at me before pouncing on it as if to say are you watching me? Impressive aren’t I? She sure was impressive and she learned things quickly without my assistance.

When I took a part-time job leaving her home alone, I bought a battery-operated gumball-type dry cat food dispenser. I poured the dry food into the upper clear chamber and set the timer before going to work setting it to dispense small amounts of dry food in three-hour intervals. Apparently, those amounts weren’t enough for her majesty as when I arrived home by day two, I saw that way too much food had been dispensed from the upper chamber. It was then that I decided to watch my Lydia from a distance as she sauntered to the dispenser which had not dispensed any food. With one paw, she lifted the small dispenser flap and with the other paw worked her way up into the dispenser chute releasing a good amount of tasty treats into the feeding dish. Why that little so-and-so! I was incredulous. A rotating five-serving auto-dispenser was immediately purchased and turned out to be the best investment I ever made for her. She couldn’t force the serving wheel around and it worked out beautifully.

 As cats sleep and/or relax almost all day, her usual wake-up time was when I was set to retire for the evening! My Aunt Marie would visit Lydia during the day and amuse her with various wands with stringed feathers and other toy attachments which Lydia loved to follow and bat around. The hours of 9:00 or 10:00 p.m., however, were my black beauty’s favorite play time, something that I rarely caved to. After all, sleep time was important for me too. After dinner was my usual time to amuse her and expend some of her built-up energy. 

She also became my computer lap-top companion. Whenever I would sit down at my desk to write an article or two, she would magically appear next to my feet chirping to let me know she was there. She would hop up onto my small file cabinet moving closer to the window “asking” me to open it for her fresh air pleasure. Once the window was opened, she would lie on the cabinet and watch me type away as her contented purrs put me at ease. What a girl. 

 Today I arrived home to greet my Aunt Marie who had come to visit with Lydia. My aunt informed me that Lydia had just eaten and retired to her favorite napping spot. I called Lydia who trotted out to see me and to lovingly bunt my hand. She then reclined next to my aunt’s chair. Suddenly, Lydia scrambled upright and rushed abruptly to the opposite side of the living room where she fell on her side and appeared to convulse. I hurried over to her and saw that she was not moving anymore. I lifted her to the sofa and began CPR as best as I could. My aunt phoned the vet’s office to tell them I was bringing Lydia in immediately. 

The vet and her staff worked on Lydia for what seemed forever. She was gone. The vet explained that Lydia had most likely succumbed to a clot/cardiac event.

I was allowed to see my dear sweet girl for the last time. I stayed with her alone in the room whispering tenderly to her. My dolly, my honey, my baby girl had left me. I kissed her a million times and petted her ever so gently. I thanked her for all the joy and happiness she had given me, all the smiles she had brought me, and all the hours of pure love she had bestowed upon me. There will never be another like you, my sweet girl Lydia. You were a diamond in the rough and I will cherish my memories of you for my lifetime. May eternity be good to you.

Contact Janet: [email protected]