Bye Sweet Little Francis

We had Franny put to sleep on Friday.

(I know this is long but she has been my daily companion for almost 12 years and many people across the country loved little Franny, so I want to share it. You don't have to read it if you don't like it, but please don't make any negative comments.)

 

We noticed Franny was eating less and had lost weight so I brought her to the vet about two weeks ago. Her weight had gone from about 8 lbs at her last visit to just over 4 lbs. I was shocked. I knew she had lost weight but I think her fluff had hidden the magnitude of it. Upon examination, the vet found several large masses in her pelvis area that seemed to be displacing and impacting her kidneys, bladder, and lower GI tract. X-rays indicated that they were probably tumors and blood tests showed diminished kidney function and abnormal levels in several enzymes and other factors related to organ functioning. The vet strongly suspected cancer. She told us we could do an ultrasound and some sort of spray cell test to confirm but that was really just for our own closure, the treatments were limited. She gave us an overview of the options, but the prognosis was not good for all of them.

The last two weeks have been miserable. I knew that her quality of life was fading and she was suffering. She was barely eating and she continued to lose weight. She had been hiding under the bed and in the closet. She was struggling to walk and losing bladder function. We had already made the choice to have her put to sleep but I could not actually bring myself to do it. I knew we had to but I just couldn’t do it. I have lost pets before but my parents always made the final call. Franny was my first kitty and I just could not imagine my life without her.

I got Franny in August 2007. Kara and I went to the Tippecanoe County Humane Society so I could get a cat or two. I wanted a black short hair cat because they are my favorite. We walked around and pet all the kitties and tried to make a decision. Then Kara picked up “Francine.” She was so tiny and soft and snuggly. The cage said that she was 10 months old, indicating that she was still a kitten, thus her small size. I had never even considered a calico cat because my Gramma Morin had a calico when I was little and she was a tremendous bitch. But Kara just kept holding her and petting her and she was so sweet. We fell in love with her little face.

I still wanted a black cat, so I decided to start picking up the black cats (because there were so many at the shelter) and holding them up to Franny. I think he was the second or third cat that I picked up. I held him up to Franny and they immediately kitty kissed each other’s faces. Kara and I both burst out with an “awwwwww” in unison. At that moment, Franny and Zooey were formed. I adopted both of them that day. Zooey (or “Forbin” as his cage said) had to go to the vet for surgery because he still needed to be neutered, but I got to take "Francine" home with me right away. We bonded that night and I started calling her Franny. I decided to name them Franny and Zooey after the J.D. Salinger book. (I later learned how perfect those names were for each of them.) I brought Zooey home the next day, and our happy little family was all together. Incidentally, Franny has never gotten along with another cat besides Zooey.

Since then I have had almost 12 wonderful years with my little Francis. The vet determined that despite her small size, she was actually closer to 2-3 years old when I adopted her, based on her teeth. She likely got pregnant in her first heat, which stunted her growth, and left her in a “perma-kitten” state. She never got any bigger, although she did get much rounder. Franny and Zooey accompanied me back and forth across the country dozens of times. They have probably been to more states that most people! They rode with me from Indiana to New York multiple times during grad school, and then from Indiana to Texas, Texas to New York, and then finally from Texas to Massachusetts, as well as many drives from Massachusetts to New York to visit Gramma and Grampa. My parents had grandkittens long before that had Big Baby. Franny has a special love for my dad. When she stayed at their house for "summer vacation," each morning my dad would put her on a bar stool beside his chair at the table so she could get pets while he had breakfast.

 















Franny was just such a good cat. She loved cuddles and sitting on laps. Even if you moved her off your lap, she would find a way to sidle back up there when you weren’t paying attention. She slept under the covers and on our pillows every night. She was so playful and funny. She played with any and every toy that I got her. She would grab little mouse toys between her paws and throw them up in the air and then chase after them, amusing herself all alone. She loved playing monster under the covers and chasing our hands under the blankets of the bed. She had a serious and severe catnip addiction. Kara and I said that we should make a mock episode of Intervention with Franny as the addict and do little kitty interviews and voice overs for Zooey and our other cats. Once in Indiana she dragged a bag of nip off the top of a tall kitchen cabinet, ripped through multiple layers, and I found her in a near comatose state with catnip all over the kitchen floor. BK used to joke that we would come home to an empty apartment with nothing but a dirty mattress and Franny just writhing around because she had sold everything for nip. I have never seen a cat so reactive to cat nip, and so addicted. I started keeping the nip in a twist top container and I only had to unscrew the top slightly and she would come running. 

 

She had so many funny quirks. She loved pie crust and cookie crumbs. She drank water off her paw. She loved rubbing her face against my hair brushes and my dad even made her a hair brush scratch post. She didn’t meow; she sort of hiss/cough/barked. She had the cutest little half mustache that was accentuated when she tipped her little head to the side in curiosity. She was notorious for getting lost and locked into small places. She crawled into drawers, out windows, and up through pipes. She nearly gave my mom a heart attack when she escaped out the tiny gap beside the air conditioner in Ti and she found her outside laying under a rose bush right out front by the road. Once she climbed into the rafters in my Ninth St hill apartment and almost into the building ventilation system. I had to lure her out with a big fresh catnip bud from my mom’s garden. (My mom was her dealer/enabler.)

In the past two years, Franny has been such a great big sister. My cats are so patient and they have tolerated so much fur grabbing, tail pulling, tackle hugging, chasing, and aggressive baby love. Elizabeth loves her “Tee Tee” so much. When she wakes up in the morning or when she gets home from school, she always says “Tee Tee where is she?” and looks all over until we find her. I’m sure Franny isn’t a huge fan of Big Baby’s adoration, but she has never once been cross with the baby. Franny has given us so much unconditional love. She is so snuggly and soft as a cloud. I will miss stroking her on my lap, combing her beautiful fur, and scratching her little ears. I know my house will still be full of love, but it is going to feel so empty without Franny (a.k.a. Francis, Franny Bee, Franny Bean, TeeTee, TeeTeePeePee, TeeTeePeePeeLeeLeeUggyCeeCeeBon, Uggy, Uggy Nasty, Peefus, Feefus, Peef, Feef, Feefus, Teefus Leefus Peefus Meefus Steefus, Scusting, Pisser, Pissy Pants, Wizzy Butt, Sissy, and Sister). Although they often regarded each other with mutual contempt like an old married couple, I cannot imagine Zooey without Franny. They snuggled with each other, played with each other, stalked each other, begged for food together, and had some epic ass-kicking matches together. Chubba is losing his sister and best friend too.

My heart is just breaking at the loss of Francis. We have spent the past week giving her all the treats and ham and pie and nip and hugs and kisses and pets. We savored every last minute with our sweet baby girl. Paul was kind enough to bring her to the appointment because I could not handle it. He gently stroked her and he couldn't help but tear up while she went to sleep. I was assured that it was completely peaceful and painless. Since Friday, I have accidentally called her name several times and I keep thinking that I see her beside Zooey, but it is just force of habit. Elizabeth does not understand, of course. She just keeps saying, "Tee Tee where is she?" and today Paul was carrying her out the door for daycare, she said "bye Chubb Chubb, bye Tee Tee!" just like she always does, and I starting crying. I am not a religious person, but I hope there is a cat heaven with unlimited butt scratchies, all the chicken pot pie crust that she can eat, no grabby toddlers, and mountains upon mountains of that sweet sweet nip. You were my first cat. You made me into a crazy cat lady. You brought me so much love and happiness. Miss you little Franny. Love you always.