Farewell, My Mitzi

On Saturday night I noticed my little Mitzi had a lump on the side of her face. It seemed quite hard, which made me very concerned. But I hoped for the best - a bad tooth, an abscess caused by a bite. I took her to the vet's today, and he kept her in for exploratory surgery.

Then came the call. Cancer was eating away at her jaw. She'd hidden her pain and discomfort for so long, there was really nothing he could do. I gave the go-ahead for him to euthanize her without waking her from the anaesthetic. I didn't get to say goodbye.

I went along to kiss her poor dead body farewell, then leave her to be taken for cremation. She was barely 15.

I adopted Mitzi when she was about a year old, along with one of her kittens. She had been rescued from a back garden, abandoned by owners who hadn't bothered to get her spayed, then left her to care for her babies.

Mitzi remained tiny, having used all her energy raising her babies. Her daughter Twiglet is gigantic.

It took a long time for her to settle in. Her first venture outside was nearly permanent. She just didn't come back. I leafleted the area, and locals located her and helped me put out a trap. It was six months before she was allowed out again.

Gradually she became strokeable, on her own terms. She enjoyed her garden and her home, and would climb on to my shoulder for a fuss. But she remained nervous and wary.

She was especially fond of the chicken coop, back when I had hens. She would sunbathe on top, or sneak inside for a nap. Once she even got herself locked inside when the hens went to bed, which gave all of us a shock.



I know she was happy. I just wish it had been for longer.