Saturday, February 9, 2013

goodbye, sweet friend.

olivia, 11/2006-2/2013
it is with a heavy heart (and swollen eyelids and stuffy nose) that i say goodbye to my dear friend today.  rather than focusing on the end of her life and the decisions and events leading up to it, i instead wanted to take a moment or two to honor all the greatness and beauty that preceded this saddest of days.

i'll be honest--i never was a cat person (though owning and loving a cat for the last six years has made it evident that i actually am a bit of a cat in a human's body...hard to be more of a cat person than that).  olivia entered my life in pursuit of a dog.  i had wanted a dog for two or twenty years depending on when you start counting, and finally free of roommates and living on my own in graduate school, i hoped my time had come.  unfortunately, finding dog-friendly rental housing proved challenging, and so i set my sights on the next most furry and interactive creature.

when people ask me how i chose olivia, i always say that actually, olivia chose me.  after scouring local shelters for months and one botched adoption on a different kitten, i finally spotted an ad for olivia's litter at the local humane society one january morning.  i rushed there immediately, and spent a long time observing the litter romping, chasing, and tumbling in that playful, kitten-like way.  i loved them all for fleeting moments, but olivia's beauty and spirit were so obvious, she was the clear favorite.  as i started to walk away, she reached her paw through the cage and grabbed my shirt, the only one to even acknowledge my presence.  i was sold.  then i learned all her siblings had already been adopted anyhow--it was meant to be.


those of you who have experienced the unadulterated joy of a kitten know what delight was to follow.  she slept on my neck, followed me around, explored, and grew both  more affectionate and mischievous each day.  when i would return home from class, i couldn't open the door more than an inch before she was off like lightening scaling the stairs from my basement apartment to the penthouse and back again, several times over.  when i visited my parents for long weekends, she came home with me.  when i studied, she sat on my lap.  when i cooked, i tied her in a scarf around my body like an infant.  when i was sick, she would not leave my side. when i took dog-sitting assignments, my disclaimer was that the home had to be cat friendly, because my kitten would be joining me for the duration.  the first time i had to leave her for a trip, i cried every night and called her sitter, my patient friend alyssa, for frequent updates.  we were inseparable.




cats have a reputation for being mercurial, unpredictable, dismissive and aloof.  i think those descriptors come from people who don't understand them, "dog" people, extroverts.  i suppose i can't speak for other cats, but olivia was never a mystery to me.  she was doting, affectionate, playful and attentive.  she was more observant and intuitive than most people i've met, and seemed always to know what i was thinking and feeling.  careful and considerate, i never had to train her to be gentle in her play.  never once did i worry about her around my children, who yanked her fur and chased her tail.  her adopted brother, who tortured her without pity for most of their shared existence, was an inconsolable mess when we relocated to chicago.  after our first night there, we could not find him in the morning, in spite of the small size and emptiness of our new apartment.  when we did finally locate him underneath the washer and dryer pipes, who was there beside him so he would not be alone?  thoughtfulness like that simply cannot be taught.


neither of us knew it at the time, but olivia entered my life at the brink of the most condensed, whirlwind period possible.  in her short life, she witnessed and supported me through one other cat, four apartments and one house, two engagments and one marriage, two masters degrees and two children.  that is quite a lot of change for two beings who do not welcome change or adapt to it very gracefully.  we muddled through together.

through all of these very notable ups and downs, she has been the one constant in my life.  like anyone who has known you for a long time through that type of transformation, particularly someone who watches and listens to you carefully every day, she knew me so well, better than most.  she showed her support through all the long nights of studying, her loyalty through some truly unpleasant nights of food poisoning.  it was her company that consoled me as i navigated a painful end to a relationship (and i know she offered the same for him, too).  it was her presence that comforted me when i brought my first child home from the hospital to care for alone when my husband immediately returned to his grueling work schedule. 
she was the truest, most honest kind of friend, the kind you can only find in an animal, because humans are inherently too selfish.  i cannot quite articulate the utter grief i feel at the loss of this relationship, and of an entity of such good leaving us too soon.  her death is a harsh reminder that this world lacks too much in justice and mercy.  but, her life is a tribute to purity, affection, consideration, gentleness and unconditional love.  her lessons are many, her love unsparing, and she will always be an integral part of the most vital years of my life.  for all the holes you filled in my heart, those i knew of and for the many that surprised me, for your love that healed me, i thank you.  goodbye, sweet friend, until we meet again.

olivia, july 2007





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