A sad day

It's been a sad day at our home. We lost our sweet Olivia. She had been battling mammary cancer for over a year.  She had three operations to remove the tumors, but they kept coming back, with a vengeance.  We decided, with our vet's blessing, to stop all heroic measures and just let her live as long she was able.  Over the last few weeks, it became apparent that she was deteriorating. The tumors were spreading, she was losing weight and getting a little wobbly.  In spite of it all, she continued to eat and drink, lounge in her favorite spots, and "grumble" at the other cats when they got in her face at feeding time. I found her this morning when I woke up, stretched out on the floor in front of the washing machine.

Olivia came to us over 10 years ago, as a foster.  She was an adult when we took her in and all we knew was that she and a litter of kittens were found as strays.  Olivia hated going to adoption days and it showed.  She would curl up in the back of the cage and pout through the whole event.  When she saw me or Neal coming to pick her up at the end of the day, she would perk up.  Neal taught her how to hop out of the cage on the table and walk straight into our pet carrier on the floor.  Her "trick" amused many people, but no one ever showed interest in adopting her.  After putting her (and us) through that for several months, we finally caved in and adopted her. 

Olivia was a delightful and beautiful cat.  She got along fabulously with everyone in our household, except C.C., the calico.  We had to break up some pretty heated brawls between those two over the years. Now  I know why they say women fighting resembles a cat fight!  Her favorite places to snooze were on top of the turbo scratchers and underneath the raised dog water bowls.  When I found her this morning, I wrapped her body in a towel and laid her on top of the dog bed, giving all the other animals time to say their goodbyes.  Only the dogs seemed curious and gave her a few sniffs, but I worry about Skittles, who was very attached to her.  Even though we still have a house full of animals, the loss we feel is huge.  We feel blessed that she died in her sleep and we didn't have to make the decision to euthanize her, but the pain is still raw.  As I prepare to feed the cats their evening canned food, I keep thinking she will pop into the kitchen and start talking to me in anticipation.  My mind knows better, but my heart is slower to catch on.

RIP our sweet Olivia, a.k.a Liver Head, Liver Smack, Liv...