In a Vase on Monday: An Homage

It's hard to believe that the loss of a seven-pound, seventeen-year-old cat can turn your life upside down but that's what happened last Friday.  On Thursday evening my cat, Pipig, suddenly starting walking sideways.  She quickly got worse and her distress spread to my husband and me.  When my veterinary care guide provided no answers, I called my vet's after-hours emergency line.  After discussion, I arranged an appointment early the next morning.  After examining Pipig and reviewing her history, the vet concluded that the problem was probably caused by a stroke or a cancerous lesion on her brain.  She outlined our options regarding further testing and prospective treatment.  Given Pipig's age, her medical history, her distress, and the likelihood of recovery, my husband and I agreed to euthanasia.  The pain of her absence is palpable.

I've buried myself in the garden for the last few days.  I wasn't sure how I felt about cutting flowers to fill a vase, much less blogging, but then I remembered a vase a friend of my brother's had given me several year's ago with Pipig in mind, hence this homage.

I have a lot of photos of her; however, this one, taken in January of this year following her recovery from other medical issues late last year, is among my favorites

The gift vase features a tortoiseshell-tabby cat like Pipig.  It even has Pipig's green eyes.

Back view

Top view

Flowers, clockwise from the upper left: Achillea 'Moonshine', Alstroemeria 'Third Harmonic', A. 'Indian Summer', Gaillardia 'Arizona Sun', Grevillea 'Superb', and Leptospermum 'Copper Glow'

This wouldn't be a proper tribute without some additional background on the subject.

I adopted Pipig from an animal rescue group in October 2008 at one year of age, after she'd weened 2 kittens rescued with her.  They'd named her "Mandy Manilow" which didn't suit either of us.  I kept her confined in a small space for a couple of days to allow my other cat, Ming, and she time to adjust to one another.  Her mewing sounded squeaky to me, hence her name.  "Pipig" is the Swedish word for squeaky.

Ming's brother, Max, had died suddenly of congestive heart failure a few months before I adopted Pipig.  He wasn't used to being by himself.  He and Pipig adjusted to one another very quickly.  This photo was taken by my husband in December 2009 when I was under the weather.

Ming and Pipig were regular companions.  This photo shows them in a cat tree (built by my husband) in our former home.

Like his brother, Ming had serious medical issues.  He outlived his sibling by more than 5 years but ultimately succumbed to what the vet believed was bladder cancer.  Pipig looked after him as often as I did.

We lost Ming in early 2014, at which point Pipig became the queen of all she surveyed, including the screened catio shown here

Her majesty hung out wherever she pleased, including the mantle in our bedroom.  She was attracted to flowers but never ate them.

I used to allow her to wander in the garden under close supervision (although she escaped surveillance 3 or 4 times, much to my dismay).  When she and I nearly walked into a coyote mid-morning one day in 2017, the outdoor rambling ended and she had to make do with her catio.

I included this photo taken in 2018 only because it's currently staring at me from a 2024 calendar a friend created.  She's made calendars for me annually for a few years, usually featuring photos from my IAVOM posts, but sometimes including one of Pipig.  This photo just happened to be the one in place for June 2024.

Pipig suffered through 5+ months of a home renovation with us in 2019, spending a lot of the time the workers were on-site nested away in our bedroom closet; however, she conducted inspections after work hours

In late 2019, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She had surgery in December 2019, followed by several months of chemotherapy ending in May 2020.  As chemotherapy was mostly conducted during the pandemic lockdown, I spent a lot of hours in the parking lot waiting for her during her treatment sessions.

After a serious medical issue in January 2023, Pipig had another medical problem in late November-early December 2023.  She was better by the middle of December 2023 when I took this photo of her checking into what I was up to in my office.  She had 2 rounds of antibiotics to deal with what appeared to be pneumonia but her lungs were declared clear in January 2024.

I can't claim she hadn't shown other signs of her age.  It was obvious from her gait that she was arthritic but she fought us over the medications we tried to give her to provide relief.  She'd recently been seeking out my husband and I, staying close to one or the other of us.  She started spending most of her time in our bedroom but would hunt me down if I was missing in action for a few hours.  She demanded to be combed every evening and, if I woke during the night, she'd jump on my pillow to be petted before curling up next to my head for awhile.  I didn't see this last event coming and hoped we'd have her for at least a couple more years but I can't entirely say I was surprised.

That's my trip down memory lane.  Thank you for joining me.  Pipig wasn't my first cat and she's unlikely to be my last but each one has its own special place in my heart.  I'll act once my bruised heart is ready for that.

For more IAVOM posts, visit Cathy at Rambling in the Garden.

All material © 2012-2024 by Kris Peterson for Late to the Garden Party