On June 10th, 2016 I met you. I was living in Madison, Wisconsin at the time - it was a Friday, and I was on my way to a music festival in Chicago. I'd been considering adopting a cat, so on the way out of town my friend and I swung by the Dane County humane society to meet some. I met a few, including a girl cat named Tilly - that was you. Your previous owner had passed away, leaving you and your dog sibling up for adoption.
You were uncomfortable meeting new humans then. You didn't respond well to pets, and you had gone unclaimed for over 3 weeks. They moved you to an area of the shelter for more "difficult" pets. After hearing this, I was surprised when you were taken out to meet me - you were shy, but definitely very sweet. I felt a connection right away - a part of me knew then that I'd found the one.
I proceeded to the festival for the weekend - I'd told myself that I'd sleep on the decision to confirm it was the right one. That I'd swing by the shelter again to see if you were still there, and adopt you on my way home if I could. I spent the whole weekend distracted, worrying that someone else would snatch you up.
But fate didn't let that happen - you were still at the shelter when I returned. I adopted you on June 12, 2016 and renamed you Sophie. You became my best friend for the next 8 years. We lived in three different homes in Wisconsin, along with one in the England and one in California.
As we settled in together, you got more comfortable opening up and putting your little cat personality on display. It turned out that when you were comfortable, you actually really loved people and pets! 🤯 You were actually very cuddly - both with me and with our human friends. You slept on top of me for (at least part of) every single night we were at home together. When I'd get up in the middle of the night to pee, I'd either move you or nudge you off my chest or lap, you'd wait until I got back, and then you'd hop back on. You could have slept anywhere else for an uninterrupted night of sleep, but you never did.
You were playful and curious. You preferred your drinking water as a trickle from the bath or by dunking your head in human cups. You enjoyed playing with streamer toys, laser pointers, and "wrestling" with my hand. The best was when I'd hide a treat somewhere, and then you'd chase the laser pointer all around the room until I eventually led you to the treat. I was trying to stimulate your hunting instincts - not sure how well that worked, but we had fun :) You had so many unique quirks and mannerisms. Sometimes when you were feeling playful, we’d chase each other and you'd do a little run/gallop before lying down to catch your breath. You'd chirp and trill when you were feeling playful. You liked being pet around your head, ears, and chin (not neat your tail though - that was bad). You would purr - sometimes very loudly - when you were feeling good.
You weren't too mischievous, although sometimes your curiosity would get you into trouble. I caught you taking a drink from the toilet once - we had to keep the toilet seat down after that. One time when we were living in Bristol, I left the front door open for you to explore. It got close to bed time - I looked for you, and I couldn't find you. I went outside and walked up the street, calling for you - you were all the way at the end of the street, looking confused when you came running and meowing to me. Another time the same thing happened, but I couldn't find you outside. I shouted your name over and over in the middle of the night up and down the street. I got back home, panicked, thinking about putting up posters and where you might be. Then I heard a meow - you were at home the whole time! I'd left a cupboard door open, you snuck in, and I closed it behind you. Sorry about that :p
You gave me so much through our time together. You brought me joy every day. You brought joy to everyone you ever met. You kept me from going insane at home during the pandemic. Whenever I was feeling down, I'd think about you to feel better. I still do that.
It's no exaggeration to say that you taught me how to love. You were the first soul I was entirely responsible for - the first one that completely depended on me. I felt that, and I thought about you all the time, pouring whatever nurturing energy I had into you. I'd think about how to spend time with you, how to play with you and give you stimulation, how to shape your environment so you always had something or someone to engage with and play with. I taught you tricks, like giving me a high-five or shaking my hand for a treat. I gave you freedom to explore rather than keep you cooped up inside, even if it risked you getting lost or something bad happening. I went through life thinking about how to make you happy and keep you healthy. I wanted to give you the best cat life.
Sometimes I failed to do that. The first time I went away for a weekend after adopting you, I didn't get anyone to keep you company - I just left out extra food and water, and left you alone. When I got back, your tail & its fur were standing straight up, and you were meowing anxiously - it was obvious that you were incredibly stressed. I can still tap into the guilt that struck me in that moment. Another time, I was trying to cut some matted fur off of you (grooming you was a constant struggle), and I ended up snipping some of your skin and had to take you to the emergency vet for stitches.
Throughout your life we tried to introduce you to other cats so that you would have more than just me for company. But you never got along with them - you were used to being an only cat. You always hissed, tried to fight them, or ran away. You weirdly got along pretty well with the dogs and ferrets you met, but not the cats. When I had a roommate with another cat, you were scared of him. We had to always keep you separated, and as a result you didn't have as much space to live as you deserved. We never did get you another feline friend that you enjoyed being with. I regret not doing a better job at those introductions; not doing more to figure out how to do get you a cat friend.
You helped me become a better cat dad over time. I spent more time with you, which was made easier by me working from home. We went on walks and played every day. I'd get you a sitter any time I left, and when I was gone for more than a few days I'd have them stay with you over night. I built a three story cat castle right by my desk, which you used to climb up to my desk and keep me company. I even started putting my laptop on top of a cardboard box that you could sit in, so you could be in my cone of attention as I typed away and make the occasional celebrity appearance in my zoom calls. I made sure every place we lived was on the ground floor with direct outside access, so you could explore and have a frontier for your curiosity. You loved exploring, gradually expanding your domain bit by bit. Thinking of ways to improve our life together was part of my routine.
On thanksgiving day in 2023, after you had been displaying signs of lethargy and inappetence, you stumbled jumping off of my bed. We you to the emergency vet. Scans revealed that you had fluid in the area around her chest. The vet suspected heart disease, which was later confirmed. Through the tears I remember thinking that I just wanted some more time.
But it wasn't your time just yet - we did get more time. We got you two different medicines, which you took two syringes of every day. One was a diuretic - furosemide - to dry you out & prevent the fluids from building up. The other was pimobendan, to help stop your kidneys from being too damaged by the first medicine. These kept you going and mostly happy. For the next 8 and a half months, we had more adventures in the garden, play times all over the living room, afternoons in the sun, and sleep time together. We explored the halls and alleys around my building, you met my neighbors, we took hundreds of new cat pictures, and got some new sitters to fall in love with you.
On August 12th, 2024 you passed away. In the days before, you stopped eating, your energy was low, and you had become very thin and frail. Scans at the vet showed that the fluid had expanded throughout your chest cavity. They said there was nothing we could do.
I had the choice to arrange to have you euthanized then & there, or in the next few days. The vet said spending some final time together would be fine. I wanted to have as much time with you as I could, so I put chose to put it off for a couple days. I hope you weren't too uncomfortable in your final days - I worried that it was a selfish decision to put it off.
It ended up not mattering - we didn't get those extra days. You passed away on your own that night. We were on the couch. You were on my lap.
And that was it. No more pets on your head, no more visits in bed, no more side-kicking me as I worked from home. It's been exactly one year since that day.
In the days after I lost you, I felt a lot of sadness and loss, obviously. I was so lucky to have not lost any main characters in my life to that point - you were the first. I remember waking up every day and remembering again that you were gone, and that day would already have a dark cloud over it. Life was and is much lonelier without you. I still miss you.
One of the first other feelings that hit me was guilt. For our first several years together, I didn't know all of what I know now. I didn't do everything I now know to do as a cat dad. I wasn't able to give you as good a life as I can now. Those mistakes I made were ones I'll never make again, but I still made them with you. That's how I learned from them. If I ever use these lessons in the future, it won't be you that benefits. Even though you're the one that deserves it. It was your hardship that taught me these things. There are so many things I would have loved do differently if we had another chance at life together.
Another feeling I had was gratefulness. You changed me so much. You shaped who I am today. You made me see the kind of love I'm capable of. You gave me memories I'll cherish forever. You made me into the cat dad that I am - one who's very proud of you. Proud of you for patiently guiding me as your companion over the years, for pushing on the edges of your comfort zone as you explored, for rolling with the punches whenever we moved, for loving me. Any story of me is going to have so much to say about you.
On my last birthday my girlfriend gave me something I've always wanted - artwork of you. A beautiful drawing - It sits in my room along with a shrine in your memory - your ashes, your collar, a framed imprint of your paw, and one of my favorite photos of you. It's nice to still be able to see you when I wake up.
To everyone who's been a part of Sophie's life, thank you. Whether you've pet her, babysat her, let us crash at your place while we moved, or just followed us on Instagram from back when my account was solely an account for her - thank you for being part of the story of Sophie's life.
And finally - Sophie - thank you for spending your life with me. Thank you for being the best cat I could ever hope for. I'm sorry for my mistakes taking care of you - I hope you can forgive me. I hope you were happy. I'll always love you.