Sasha was about 2 years old when Mickey caught her eye. Mickey was about 7-8 months old. Sasha had two kittens older than Mickey! And there were plenty of other more “eligible” tomcats in the colony that hadn’t had a date with the scalpel yet. But Mickey was who she loved.
Sasha hadn’t yet been trapped and I watched them bond. She went into heat, and wanted Mickey to be the dadcat so badly. I should have been horrified - after all I do rescue and Spay/Neuter is the hallmark of our efforts. But, they were so cute they made me laugh. At first he had no idea what she wanted. Then, he figured it out. But he was size-challenged. NO! Not that size - his body length was too short. After all, he was barely out of kittenhood! I’m not sure who ended up being the dadcat, but a little later I did manage to trap both of them.
Mickey was immediately neutered and vaccinated with modified-live vaccine. A couple hours later, Sasha was sedated to be spayed, but….ooops! She was further along than we thought. Criticize me if you like, but I don’t do late-stage spays. I can’t call myself “no-kill” if I’m putting each individual kitten down when it is still in the womb. So, Sasha was going to finish her pregnancy. But, another oops! No one was sure if Mickey would be shedding virus while his immune system responded to the vaccination. So - for the time - Sasha and Mickey had to be kept separate.
Normally I don’t like caging cats for much time, but that is what I did. They were in adjoining cages. They were large cages, side-by-side but far enough apart they couldn’t touch each other. But they were still “together”.
Three weeks later he was deemed safe and I opened the cages. She immediately crawled in his cage and curled around him.
Some months later Mickey got sick. He spent a few days in the hospital recovering. When he returned home I put his crate down on the floor and Sasha immediately climbed on top of it. I let him out, and they carefully sniffed noses. “Is it really you? Are you really home? Are you okay?”
They wrapped themselves around each other again. They loved to cuddle and were never far from each other. Sadly, whatever virus Mickey had settled in his heart and caused some damage. Today, nearly three years later, it suddenly flared.
I was at my computer trying to work. Sasha started crying loudly and insistently. I went over to see what the problem was. Mickey was laying down and in a matter of minutes went from laying to gasping for breath to collapsing. I couldn’t feel a pulse, so I ran to get my stethoscope and the phone, dialing the vet clinic as I ran. When I got back to him he was still gasping. His gums were white so I knew he wasn’t getting any oxygen. Had he expired right then, I would have let him go, next to his beloved Sasha.
But he didn’t - and respiratory failure is a horrible way to go. So, I gathered him up and headed for the clinic. By the time I got there he was looking better. As I told the vet what I’d observed she said “blood clot.” As they started to work on him he started to crash again. When his heart stopped again and restarted I understood this was not going to be an easy death, nor was it a fixable situation. The vet confirmed - even with aggressive treatment he would be “lucky to make it out of the hospital.” Everyone was looking at me to decide, while they were grabbing tubes and needles and other tools to do the heroic stuff.
“Let him go.”
I stood in the hospital and held his lifeless body crying my heart out. Normally I let go more easily. I have the satisfaction of knowing we’ve done everything we could. This time I didn’t. It was the shock. It was also knowing we could have done so much - but ended up with the same result. And Mickey would have been the one to suffer while I made myself feel better by “trying.”
I came back home. Sasha was sitting on top of the box where they usually slept. She regarded me. Sasha is still pretty aloof, but I offered her my hand for a sniff. She leaned forward and sniffed. Then leaned back. She regarded me with unblinking eyes for a couple more minutes.
She went and hid. She’s still hiding. She knows.
In the matter of an hour her world was completely shattered. I don’t know how to comfort her - and that makes it hard to comfort myself.
She had a love that lasted four years. I want to write “only” four years. But, still - complete mutually reciprocal love. That is something to celebrate, especially if you are a feral cat. They were truly one cat in two bodies.
Mickey, you were so loved. And it is so unfair that you had such a short time with us. Goodbye sweet boy. We will miss you.
