Minnie disappeared for a few days, and we both accepted that she was dead and did not expect to see her again. Barn cats have their own ideas about things, especially death. She shocked us by reappearing last night.

My guess is that she went off to die but just couldn’t. We had to help her go. I believed she was asking for help.

As far as we know, Minnie  (who was named after my grandmother Mindel) hasn’t eaten for days and is thin and light as a feather. She was also weak and appeared to have an eye infection, probably from crawling under the porch. “They are tough cats,” said the vet.

We decided to end this.

Minnie looked dreadful, and the waiting and wondering were chewing up Maria. When Maria found her, she got a cloth to wipe her eyes. It was time.

We have learned that keeping an animal alive beyond its time is not always merciful.

We agreed it was time to help Minnie leave the world quickly and comfortably. She had to be suffering now.

 

We called our vet, who saw us this morning at 10:30. Minnie was barely conscious; Maria held her and rubbed her back. I scratched her head, and she fell asleep in my hands.

Cassandra and Dr. Roosevelt were wonderful, gentle, empathic, quick and efficient. It was painless and fast, one sedative and a lethal injection. Minnie never moved.

We are so lucky to have the Cambridge Valley Vets as our vet.

We brought Minnie home in Cassandra’s pillowcase for situations like this.

We buried Minnie at the end of Maria’s flower garden, where she loved to sit and soak up the sun. Minnie was a part of us, as so many loved animals are to those who care for them.

As I mentioned, the decision to get this feral kitten and rescue her was the first decision we ever made together, years before we got married. She meant a lot to both of us.

Minnie’s last breath.

I told Maria I felt we had been good stewards – we gave her a chance to die as she wished. Today, we chose to help her leave when she had deteriorated visibly, and she will rest now where she is most comfortable.

Minnie started with a hard life as an unwanted feral kitten, but she had a lovely life thanks to Maria. She bounced back bravely when she lost a leg to some predator. She loved the chickens.

She was cautious around strangers and would disappear, but she loved every animal and human on the farm.

She got special treats every day of her life, and love and attention.

When we held our open houses, Minnie would flee to the barn and hide out all day.

Minnie was warm to us, but like any barn cat worth anything, she was a fearsome hunter, often leaving various heads and body parts on the porch for us to enjoy.

For the past sixteen years, just about every day began with Maria singing what I named the “Minnie Song.” I was usually in the bathroom when I heard the song right outside the window. Maria sings to all of the animals (and many of her flowers), which is a sound it lifts me to hear every morning.

We dug a deep hole and put some slate over it to keep animals away. We have seen a lot of life and death on the farm, and we know to move along; we’re not big on drama. But Minnie will leave a big hole, as did Red, Simon, Frieda, and Rose before that.

All deaths are inevitable, but all deaths are not alike. Our lives go on. We have work to do.

We said goodbye and thanked her, and I asked Maria if we could sing the “Minnie Song” together, and we did.

It was a sweet farewell, and it felt good. It’s finally over; Minnie’s gone.

Minnie was Maria’s cat more than mine, and she will feel the loss more than me.

But I loved Minnie and her story and the love between these two. She was a gentle creature.

If you weren’t a mouse or baby rabbit or mile,  she would be happy to love you and get scratched.

I’m taking Maria out to lunch at Bob’s hot dog stand to mark the occasion.

The Minnie Song:

“Miss Minnie was a  pussy,

She was a pussy cat

And everywhere that Minnie went, there was a big dead rat

Rat tat, tat, rat tat- a-  tat,

 Every time Minnie went

There was a big dead rat.”

Godspeed, Minnie.

 

Minnie’s grave, underneath the flowers.