R was not the only HRH we lost last week.
Unfortunately, we had to say goodbye to Sophie over a week ago. I opted not to put it in last Saturday's pet post, as it was far too early to process.
I still might be in denial.
I know you all love seeing pictures of her over the last 16+ years, and I'm thanking you (and in advance) for any condolences. I might not have the heart or state of mind to do it with each one of you - so forgive me in advance.
We got Sophie at around 4-5 months old. She was all of 2.2 lbs and completely imperfect, which was perfect for us. She came to us with broken tail and two deformed front paws........not that it ever slowed her down.
Truth be told, I had my eye on another brown-haired tabby, but 710 said that the kitty kold she had might not show her true personality. Sophie fka Fabiano (or as 710 called her, "our little Italian shoe maker") didn't have a cold (she totally did, but didn't manifest until after she got to her new home).
Her name came due to Sophie's Choice. Not that we were going to have her offed by the Nazis, but that 10 days in we could not pick a name. As she was selected to have a great home (it was a no-kill shelter....settle down!), when we took her to the doc for her cold and they asked us her name, it kind of came out. We both nodded when we heard it.
Sophie came to us due to Kylie passing 6 months earlier. Tovah would roam the house HOWLING after Kylie was gone. We thought she needed a companion. This is a thought that we rethought a few weeks after getting Soph.
Poor Tovah. TORTURED by Sophie. Less than three pounds and was the alpha cat. Honestly, had Tovah just whacked her a few times, I think that would have been good for all. They semi-made peace, but Sophie seemed to be boss. I gave Tov a lot more affection because of this.
We also only took Petey on the condition that Sophie would allow it - and they'd get along. I knew Petey was fine with cats. We just didn't know the other way. I would have said they ignored each other and there was a distance, but scrolling through pictures, Sophie was way close to him a lot.
That paved way for Shep, of course. We wasted a month not forcing them together, Sophie staying upstairs. Once we physically brought her out, save a few chases, things were fine. These two pretty much did ignore each other. I'd have liked more snuggling (read: any), but it beats a dog with a high prey drive and aggression.
Like all of our cats, with us, Sophie was very social and talkative. Unlike our others, she came out and hung around when guests were here. There were people before who swore we never had pets, as they never saw them.
Like the other cats though, Sophie wasn't big on being a lap cat or being held too too much. She'd sidle up next to you and lay there, but she wasn't one for snuggling most of the time. Like Tovah, she was good about lying on your chest when in bed. They both had the upper paw that way.
Holiday time 2020, we were told Sophie only had a week or so to live. Clearly that was a misdiagnosis. But she was ailing. Getting her to eat was constant challenge. Wet. Dry. Treats only. Real people salmon or tuna. Sometimes grilled chicken. Along with medications to stimulate her appetite until they no longer did.
Much of her life she was a little Rubenesque, but in the end she probably weighed 5lbs. It was time. And she couldn't process water or food at this point.
Of course, we are heartbroken. But we did the right thing at the right time. I've always questioned this with the others, but not this time - though I was tempted to hold off.
Like all the others, that last day they rally and come back to life.
I love that and I hate it. It makes me re-question our decision. But I put it in a different perspective that morning when Sophie would not leave me alone and wanted my cereal milk for the first time in months. This time I talked myself into it was a thank you for helping her. This was something she could not do on her own and needed us to be true to her in our quest for love, companionship and humanity.
The vet experience is never fun. Ever. And we had a seemingly newly graduated vet who was kind and overly clueless as to why we were there. So that annoyed me, but I needed some outlet, I suppose and she became the target.
Unlike Kylie and Tovah, I kept my tears in check. Oh, I cried. I just didn't bawl. I think that was mostly due to being the right thing at the right time.
I said my goodbyes and how much I loved her and thanked her for 16+ years of wonder. And I meant every syllable.
Until 9-10 days ago, it's been over 30 years since we haven't had a cat in our house. So this is weird of us. Many times I have gone to give my cereal milk to her, and of course, she isn't there. I haven't really finished my own cereal milk in decades. One of the cats always got it.
Shep seems oblivious to her lack of presence.
Sophie is no longer physically with us, though she will always be mindfully and spiritually.
Saturdays will look different around this blog.
Song by: Fleetwood Mac