Gracie

Gracie had been ill for the past few weeks. The vet diagnosed cancer in her kidneys and liver, prescribed painkillers, steroids and appetite stimulants.  

For a week she seemed a bit better, though getting her to take the tablets was an ordeal at first (wrapped in treats, wrapped in cheese). None of them worked for long. 

At the end of a grim day, she came up to me and sat in my lap. I told her I’d loved her since the day we brought her home from the cat shelter, when she jumped up on my knee and licked my nose. She looked up and licked my chin and I felt forgiven. 

I then found I could crush the tablets into Lickelix and she’d take them. 

She often slept curled in the crook of my arm. On Friday night she lay across my lap till about 2am, but on Saturday she stopped eating. We went shopping for cat food etc and came home to find her in such pain, she growled if she turned over, despite taking her painkillers earlier. 

We took her to the emergency vets and at first they suggested palliative care, but couldn’t get a cannula in. She often took on such a stubborn air, we said she was channelling my mother. 

It became clear that the only kindness was to put her to sleep. She lay on my lap, on a blanket, Brian cradling her head, fighting even that for a while. 

We still have Bella, a bright, sunny cat, but Gracie has taken a piece of my heart with her.