In 2009, when I first began writing my MFA
thesis about people who work with death in their professions, I also wrote
about my own experience with death, which at the time was limited to my
cats. My last mentor thought it was kind
of ridiculous to equate a pet’s death to that of a human, but I know a few pet
owners who would beg to differ. At one
time, I had four cats living with me—Spooky, Binky, Larry and Penny. Penny was the youngest cat (11) and she was
the first to die. I came home from work
and found her foaming at the mouth and struggling to breathe. I freaked out and my husband took her to the
vet. After an xray, it was discovered
that she had several tumors in her lungs.
We made the horrendously difficult decision to end her life that night.
Four years later, my 15 year-old cat Larry began to urinate
outside the box which was the first sign that something was wrong. He was going through liver failure. We also made the decision to end his
life. While I didn’t go to the vet for
Penny, I took Larry in. He loved nothing
more than to be brushed, so as he cowered on my lap I brushed him to calm him
down. The vet couldn’t find a vein, so she
said it would be best if I left the room as she would have to administer the
shot into his heart.
A few months later, Binky, Larry’s sister succumbed to the
hyperthyroidism that we had treated her for for years. Out of all my cats, she was my favorite. She was a rotund Calico who was snuggly and
social and would face off with any dog that dared enter the house. When we took her to the vet, I stayed for the
first injection, but I couldn’t be with her for the final one. It was just too painful.
After Binky, the only cat that remained was Spooky, my
oldest. At 20 years old, he stopped
eating and hid behind the TV. I knew he
was ready to go and it broke my heart.
I’d had that cat for half of my life and when he died, I vowed to never
own another cat. It was too difficult to
lose them.
When I went to pick up Spooky’s ashes, I met Judy and fell
in love. Despite the fear of another
loss, I took a chance on love. And I’m
so glad I did. Judy is a lovable cat who
is chipper and snuggly and loves to destroy my furniture. And I don’t mind because I love her. Her
presence makes me calm and happy.
I didn’t want another cat.
And then I met Sonya Reed. She
had written me to thank me for being with Khristian on his last day on earth
and making him laugh. A friendship
developed. We wrote. I went to visit her. In the year that followed she told me of her
cat at the prison. She named her Violet. She snuck food to her and tamed her. She loved this cat like a child. The Sun published a piece about
Violet and Sonya.
But then the prison decided they were going to trap the
feral cats at the prison and kill them.
Sonya pleaded with the Assistant Warden to let her trap
Violet and let
someone adopt her. And even though I
didn’t want a second cat, especially a feral one that might hurt Judy, I agreed
to do it. I didn’t do it out of a love
for a cat, but out of love for my friend.
I wanted to take care of the one thing she loved and make sure that she
was safe from harm.
So, I arranged to have
Violet tested for Feline Leukemia and
HIV and she tested negative. I got her
spayed and vaccinated. I brought her
home on
October 23, 2011
and amazingly she thrived in her new environment. She is now an important and loved member of
my family.
This past weekend, I awoke at 4:30am
to the sound of her labored breathing under my bed. I knew this wasn’t a good sign. I found an emergency vet and brought her in
immediately. They took chest x-rays and
found some inflammation. They didn’t
know if she had asthma or pneumonia or really what was wrong. They gave her steroids and an antibiotic and
kept her for 12 hours. She didn’t
eat. I knew she was stressed out in that
foreign place, so I took her home where she could rest and feel comfortable.
Yesterday, October 23 exactly one year from the day I
brought her home, I took her to her regular vet. She still wasn’t eating and had vomited. They
did blood work, including a heartworm test and last night, the vet called to
confirm that she had
heartworms, which are fatal to cats. Violet spent the first two years of her life
living in a culvert outside the death row facility in Gatesville. Heart worms are contracted by a mosquito. There is no treatment for cats. I am devastated.
I wrote Sonya a letter last night through
JPay to break the
bad news. I wish I didn’t have to do it that way. I wish I could have called her and spoke to
her in person, but she’s in prison. In addition
to dealing with the news of Violet, her daughter with Khristian just had her
fourteenth birthday and in two weeks, it will be the three year anniversary of
Khristian’s death. I don’t ask much of
people, but if you want to score major kharmic brownie points, would you please
send Sonya Reed a letter? If only to say
that you’re praying for Violet. She
needs her spirit lifted and right now I can’t be the only one to do it.
Her address is:
Sonya Reed #878111
Mt. View
Unit
2305 Ransom Road
Gatesville, TX
75628
You can write her the old fashioned way or buy a stamp
through jpay and send an email. It would mean the world to me if people reached
out to her with compassion. You don’t
have to be her best buddy, just say something simple.
I am trying to make sense of this turn of events. Violet was the happy ending to my book. I couldn’t save
Khristian Oliver or
LarryMatthew Puckett, but I could save a tiny cat from death row. And look at what happens. Despite my best
intentions, death will take her anyway. I just wish and hope and pray that this
little cat can beat the odds and recover.
If you are so inclined, will you please pray for her?
Thank you.
Pamela
