There is a quote that has always resonated with me: “Some people come into our lives and leave footprints on our hearts, and we are never ever the same.” This quote holds true in my life, though the footprints left on my heart come from a furry feline friend.
We didn’t plan on having her. We had already reserved her brother, a stunning silver Maine Coon named Ollie, who would join his older brother, Leo. But when we made the trip to Doncaster to pick him up, the breeders offered us Lizzy as well, as a bonus. Lizzy, the runt of the litter, had faced numerous obstacles early on and required round-the-clock care. It felt wrong to separate her from Ollie, as they had formed an unbreakable bond. She was a delicate creature with cream fur, captivating amber eyes, and a shy, sensitive demeanor.
All cats have their own unique qualities, and as Lizzy grew older, it became evident that her special gift was sensing when something was amiss and offering her silent companionship. Whether it was a headache or a hangover, she would be there, providing solace. In 2012, at the age of 45, my doctor assured me that the pain in my breast was not indicative of cancer, but recommended a mammogram as a precaution. While no cancer was found where the pain originated, coincidentally, it was discovered in my other breast.
I tried not to make a fuss about it; the cancer was treatable, and my kids were already navigating the challenges of their teenage years. However, it was Lizzy who brought me comfort during moments of uncertainty, faithfully by my side like a shadow. After my surgery, I returned home to find her waiting by the window, keeping watch. During the exhausting and painful days of radiotherapy, she would join me, simply sitting by my side and purring. Often, my tears would fall on her fur.
Cats may not possess an understanding of our emotions or thoughts, but it felt as though Lizzy did. Her presence helped me through the darkest times. Pets don’t pass judgment, provide unsolicited advice, or falter in their loyalty. When I regained my health, she continued to be a constant source of joy: eagerly greeting me at the front door after work, snuggling up with her paws on my pillow in the middle of the night, and faithfully keeping watch as I worked from home, patiently awaiting head rubs.
It was kidney disease that abruptly and cruelly took her from us in 2018. I was not prepared for the loss. Are we ever ready? Her ashes remain in our garage, neatly stored in a box bearing her name. There have been moments when we contemplated burying her next to her brothers, holding a proper ceremony with our human family present
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