The great catnip field in the sky

Today was heartbreaking.

Dalton, our lovable fat-cat nicknamed "Chubby girl," had to be put down. I took her. I held her. I pet her while the end came. And I cried the whole time.

Late Saturday night, I noticed she was suddenly having difficulty breathing and moving. Sunday, she showed no interest in food or water. She was lethargic. She didn't want to leave the kitchen floor.

A call into our vet (a family friend) in the afternoon prepared me for the worst. We knew she was dying. Throughout the day, I continued to wet her mouth with a syringe. I took her outside and laid her on the patio for some fresh air. And I put her in the grass for the first time.

The miracle recovery never came. Kar begged me to give Dalton another day. I refused to let her suffer another day.

It's not the first time I've put down an animal. As their "momma," I'm always there. Simba was 12 and Juneau was 9 months. Dalton was almost 7 years old.

Dalton was Tux's sister. They were abandoned by their momma probably the day before their eyes opened. Rick called me to come get them, so I loaded the kids in my Jeep and we drove right down. (Gas was still about $1.30 gal then!)

I was their momma, I bottle fed the twins for more than a week in August 2001, getting up in the middle of the night like with babies! I had little scratches all over my arms and legs where they climbed on me. It was literally 2 weeks after I got done doing the same with Dakota! Effortlessly, they moved onto wet food, then solid food. Princess and I taught them to use the litter box.

Rick never wanted to keep Dalton, much to my horror. I refused to let him get rid of her. I'd grown attached. He'd only wanted Tux (a TUXEDO cat), but when Tux turned out to not be so fluffy, Rick lost interest in him, too. Tux is a big mama's boy. Dalton kinda felt shunned because Rick wanted nothing to do with her, but she was so sweet and loving! All the other cats adored her. Unlike the others, she got along with each animal. In her younger days, she'd use Sim and Niko's furry tails as play toys. And they let her.

Usually, though, I'd just see her laying next to Niko.

It was comical to watch Princess (3 lbs) playing mother to Dalton. Dalton looked just like Princess, except Dalton had white paws. And weighed 22 lbs.

Unfortunately, she had issues. Serious issues with food. She ate and ate and ate some more. And it probably killed her.

I miss Dalton's big purr. She could be heard 10 feet away when she was truly happy! She'd see me sitting in my chaise and come waddling through the living room in High Purr Mode. She'd jump up at my feet and walk up my legs to lie on my chest. And she'd lick my nose repeatedly until I pushed her head away. All the while, she'd be purring so loudly we'd have to turn up the TV!

Like with each of our kitties, she had her own distinct personality. She will be remembered fondly and loved still more. Heaven has a big field of catnip for kitties, I'm sure. And Dalton is there.
The Last of Sheila (Coburn)