Today is a sad day. We had to make the absolutely heartbreaking decision to have Zooey put to sleep. I’ve written a ridiculously long tribute to him because I have a lot of feelings right now. Of course, feel free not to read, but please do not make any negative comments. I’m too sad to handle it. My heart is broken. I’ve never loved an animal so much in my whole life.
We took him in for his annual check up and shots last Monday. The appointment was completely routine and I had no major concerns. Our vet found his weight had dropped from 12 to 10.5 lbs so she ordered lab work to see if anything was wrong. We were blindsided by the results. She diagnosed Zooey with Stage 4 kidney disease and she recommended he go in for IV fluids and meds ASAP. After extensive tests and a stay at the animal hospital, they determined that his kidneys were rapidly deteriorating and there was no way to stop it. We took him home to spend more time with him and his condition became worse quickly. He stopped eating or drinking and he pretty much just wanted to lay in the closet. He started to have trouble walking and seemed to flinch when we pet him. I knew he wasn’t going to get better but it was/is very hard for me to accept that. We took him to the vet today and said goodbye. I am having a really hard time thinking about life without him.
Zooey was truly the best cat. He has been nothing but sweetness and love since the first moment I picked him up. I’ll never forget, it was August 2007, and Kara and I went to the Tippecanoe County Humane Society to adopt two cats for me. I was set on getting a black cat. (I have always been partial to shorthair black cats because of Rascal, my first cat growing up. Rascal was my baby from when I was about 6 to 20 years old. He was the most patient cat. I dressed him up in baby clothes and cradled him like a little baby and he never scratched me or reacted negatively.) Kara and I saw dozens of adorable kitties when we arrived and we just started petting and loving on all of them. But I couldn’t find any all black cats in that area of the shelter. Then we went into this little hallway with a big set of cages built into the wall. Inside there were several black cats and I got excited.
Meanwhile, Kara picked out Francis from one of the cages. Now when I tell you that I would have never picked out a calico cat, I mean I would have NEVER picked out a calico cat. My grandma had one when I was growing up and she was a witch. But Kara fell in love with Franny. She was the softest, snuggliest nugget and I couldn’t help but fall in love with that little beast too. I still had my heart set on a black cat, though, so I started taking some of the black cats out of their cages and holding them up to Franny. When I took Zooey out and brought him next to Francis, they immediately touched noses and kissed each other. I mean….we died of cute right there. And that was it. Franny picked Zooey. It was the best decision she ever made.
I got to bring Francine (later to be known as Franny or Francis, among many other nicknames) home right away, but Forbin (later to be known as Zooey because wtf is that name) had to go straight to the vet to be neutered. Believe it or not, Zooey had been a stray tomcat before he went to the shelter. He had the big fat head and neck that tomcats are known for. I went to get him from the vet the next day and we all started our little life together. At that time, the vet estimated that Franny was around 2 and Zooey was around 3 years old.
It took Zooey a while to become the cat I know now. He was always a little more aloof and standoffish than Franny, which is not saying much because she was an absolute slut. It took Zooey longer to warm up to me and get used to being a house cat. My first 2 years with Zooey were especially hard because he came to me with severe bladder stones. From 2008-2010, he had three surgeries on his bladder to remove calcium oxalate bladder stones and an obstruction to his urethra. After that I put both cats on prescription hard food and I started making them a soft food from scratch. The bladder stones did not come back for the remainder of his life.
He became such a sweet and friendly cat. He had a way of charming people that didn’t like cats. He greeted everyone that came to my home with rubs and snugs, and he liked to be around groups of people. He was never a lap cat, but he was always beside me. For many years now, Zooey has slept on the small patch of bed beside my pillow at night, i.e. basically sleeping on my face. It’s going to be hard to get used to that empty space next to me. I think Chubba will be missed by many people. My parents loved Chubba like their very own grandbaby. He spent many summers at Gramma and Grampa’s house and they spoiled him just as much as I did. I could always count on him coming home from Grammy’s with a little more chonk on his bones. They loved to take him outside on the leash. My dad even built a huge covered outdoor pen for him to lounge in. And he deserved it all. He was just so easy to love.
One of Chubba’s best qualities was his incredibly laid back and easy going demeanor. Nothing phased him. I remember once he was sitting on the arm of the couch during a game night and Kara started poking him with a pencil eraser. I think she probably poked him at least 20 times before he even turned his head. But he didn’t move or react at all. I used to travel back and forth from IN to NY (and later TX and MA) and Zooey never said a word during the long car rides. He just curled up in the back seat with Franny and they slept the whole time. If we had to stay in a hotel, it took Franny and Zooey about five minutes of exploring before they sprawled out on the bed and decided the room was a fine home. Perhaps my favorite memory of his chill disposition is from the summer of 2018 at our house in Florence. I used to have get togethers for my friends and our toddlers and we would let Zooey come outside because the backyard was totally fenced in. (Franny couldn’t be trusted in the yard; she would find the weak spot in the fence like a velociraptor.) The babies were obsessed with Zooey and I remember more than one hoard of toddlers chasing him around the yard. He would sort of nonchalantly trot away from them as a waddling pack of grabby hands tried to get him. He was full on tackled by a few toddlers and he never got mad. He just sort of looked at me like “really?” I dressed him up for our Halloween trunk or treats and he graciously tolerated more hoards of loving kiddos. I often worried that Elizabeth would assume every cat had Chubba’s disposition and she would get scratched if she tried to love another cat as hard as she loved Zooey.
I’m crying now just thinking about the relationship between Chubba and Buggy. They were the absolute cutest together. As much as he seemed put out by Elizabeth’s snugs, he voluntarily joined us for stories at night and always supervised activities in the playroom. Generally when he walked into the room, he would rub Buggy’s arm or stretch up to kiss her nose. He loved being around her and the feeling was mutual. I have loved watching Elizabeth turn into a cat lover. She often insisted on giving Chubba a kiss before dinner or before bed or as she left for school. I know it was just a stall tactic sometimes, but I would never say no. He needed every single ounce of our love. We usually played a game when we got home from school where we guessed Chubba’s napping spot and we would race inside to see who could find him first. He tolerated (and maybe even occasionally enjoyed) her full body snugs and kisses on the nose so well. Sometimes she would see Chubba doing something extremely handsome and she would pretend to collapse on the ground because she was dead of his handsomeness. When Buggy starts crying intensely (either because of an injury or whining) Chubba would find her to check on her. I taught her that Chubba made the best cushion to cry on so if something was really upsetting she could snuggle Zooey and cry right into his warm belly. I am so sad that our next daughter will never know her big brother, because he was truly the best brother ever.
Recently he has been so sensitive to my pregnancy pain. I was suffering with intense pains in my hip and side for almost two weeks. (Damn little big baby had a growth spurt and my round ligament was the last to hear about it.) I was stuck in bed for several days, literally moaning with pain and Chubba was so concerned. He didn’t leave my side and even demanded to go into the bathroom with me. If I made an especially loud pain sound, he would come up to me and nudge my face or hand to check on me. He was my personal caretaker and snuggle buddy. It made me feel like he really cared about me too. Plus, he always left us offerings of his toy mouse outside the bedroom door so he provided for us very well.
I know the stories about animals saving their owners seem nuts, but I truly believe Chubba saved us from a house fire in Texas. I had gotten home late from a friend’s house and I went right to bed (without noticing the smoldering chimenea on my neighbors back deck). Around 5:00am I was awoken by the Chubba’s paw on my nose and face. This was a super unusual behavior from him. He kept doing it and would not let me go back to sleep. I finally got up to pee and when I did, I noticed that my kitchen seemed to be glowing. I went into my spare bedroom/office and I saw that my neighbors back deck, fence, and soon to be house were engulfed in flames. I called 911 and acted fast. I put the cats in their carriers, grabbed my dissertation research external hard drive, and car keys. I put the cats in a safe place outside and I moved my car out of my driveway before it melted. The firefighters were there in under 5 minutes and they were able to put the fire out with minimal damage to my house and all my neighbors got out safely. My bedroom was on the other side of the house as the fire and I would not have woken up so soon without Zooey. He saved us.
I have no shame about my love for my cats. Franny and Zooey deserved every second of the love and affection they got from me and so much more. They made my life happier and fuller in every way. I have no regrets about my cat strollers and backpacks and outdoor play pens. I’m lucky because my dad built cat trees and ramps and window seats for my cats to enjoy windows and high places in all my apartments and houses. Chubba was known for humping fleece blankets and I have so many blankets scattered around the house, so he could always find somebody to love. As Chubba got older, it was harder for him to get up on our bed. I sure as hell got him a set of pet stairs to make his life easier. I would have done anything to keep him happy and healthy.
This is why I feel so incredibly guilty about our decision to have him put to sleep. I keep thinking I should have done more and I should have waited another day. He gave me so much love and devotion, and I feel like I didn’t do enough to save him. I know this isn’t really true, but I’m just riddled with grief. My childhood cat Rascal also died of kidney disease and we waited too long to euthanize him because we were selfish and we couldn’t bear to say goodbye. I regret Rascal’s unnecessary pain and suffering to this day. I’m trying to think rationally and realize that I spoke with multiple vets and they agreed that Zooey’s prognosis was very poor. Even with multiple risky and expensive surgeries, he was unlikely to live much longer. Plus he was nearly 18 years old and I didn’t want to put him through all that. We saw his health deteriorate so quickly over just the past week and I know it would have gotten even worse. I didn’t want him to suffer. But I miss him so much. I can’t even think of his little face without crying.
I am so grateful for Paul’s love and strength this week and today, especially. Paul didn’t have pets growing up so Franny and Zooey have been his first real fur babies. Zooey slept on Paul’s pillow, he fed him every morning, he gave him whipped cream treats, and he carried him upstairs to bed at night. He loved Zooey so much and he took care of my sweet old man like his own son. I could not bring Zooey inside the vets today. Paul bore the hardest burden of this tragedy. He held Zooey as the vet euthanized him. He cuddled him and told him how much we loved him. He said our last tearful goodbye. He came outside and we held each other and wept together because our sweet boy was gone.
Zooey was the GOAT. Best cat ever. There will never be another cat as perfect as him. He and Franny helped me survive graduate school, Texas, my first job, tenure process, pregnancy, pandemic, and countless shitty apartments, break ups, and bad days. Zooey and I had over 14 years together. But it wasn’t enough. I want another lifetime with him. He was not just a cat. He’s a piece of my past, a piece of my heart, he’s forever my sweet boy. I was so lucky to be his person. He was sweet and patient and loving and truly perfect. It’s going to be a very long time before I stop thinking about him every day. I expect him to stroll down the stairs or jump on the bed, I will think any dark bundle is him sleeping, I will listen for his silly meows outside our door. I have so many memories with him that I don’t want to forget. He is my handsome perfect Chubba and I will love him forever.
