December 1993 was one of the toughest years ever for me. My dad passed away, after several years of cancer, two days before my birthday and was buried on my birthday. I was hating every moment of high school where I was a high school sophomore, didn't fit in for a myriad of reasons, and I was extremely depressed. I had just turned 15. Christmas Day 1993, I clearly remember bursting into tears almost like I had hoped to unwrap the answer to all of my sadness, and finding nothing. It was that day I demanded a cat, to help me cope as we had originally been planning to give my father a dog for Christmas, and the emptiness that surrounded us was so great. I remember my sister Jeanne saying, " I want to break into the SPCA and go get her one." So I looked through the newspaper that day to see what was what as my mother easily said yes, and I found an ad that said, "Needed, homes for abused and neglected cats." I was intrigued, I wanted to help out a needy animal as I was needy and had lots of love to share myself. And so I called this old cat lady and she kept me on the phone for about a half hour, asking me all sorts of information about myself. She said she had many cats over 30, and she thought I would make a good fit. I waited on eggshells all day for someone to get home to drive me over, and it was my sister Jennifer who did. We went to this woman's tiny one room apartment and she had wall to wall cats, I have never seen so many cats in one place. And in front of the window across the room were two young cats in cages. She didn't even ask me which one I wanted, which at first dismayed me. But then she told me, "This cat has been waiting for you, you two were meant for each other." (She originally named her Katie but of course I was later to change the name.) She explained that Misty had been found and had been beaten and burned and abused, who knows in what ways. And then she had found her, and Misty had been sent to two new homes. Misty had been irritable and attacking the families who were not ready to deal with a traumatized cat, and she was returned to this woman twice for being mean and even attacking a child allegedly. The woman urged me, she just needs some patience and love, and she will break out of this, she had seen it. And I fell in love with her, and brought her home, despite the urging of my sister on the contrary who said I was being too impulsive in my need for a cat. I brought her home and my mom also expressed disappointment and concern but I urged them I could do this.
So Misty was put into my bedroom and immediately she hid behind furniture and in corners, growling, hissing and attacking if any one went near her. I was a little dismayed, I admit. I wondered if I had indeed been too impulsive. So what I did was put the bed on the floor, closed the closet, and forced her into the middle of the room and spoke to her kindly as much as possible, not trying to touch her. Next, several times a day, my mom would go into the room with heavy work gloves and pick Misty up, and then she would place her on my lap and I would speak lovingly to her. This process was repeated for several weeks, and then we opened the door to the rest of the house. Misty was extremely fearful but she accepted my love. If I approached her with my hand out she would flatten her ears and crouch on the ground, clearly symbolic she had been hit before. So I found new ways to approach her with my palm up and in front of her allowing me to sniff me before touching her. And I always played the nice calming role, leaving the more mean role as needed, to my mom, though less and less over time as she grew to trust my mom as well. And over a few months, Misty built trust with me. She began exploring the house bit by bit, though she would be frightened, shake, and hide often. But she came to know us as a loving family and by the end of two years with us, she was calmer, less fearful, loving, and extremely loyal to me.
Misty's loyalty impressed most people who saw her. Misty would wait by the door with me every morning I got the bus and she would watch until I got on, she would be waiting by the door when I got home, with her purr. If I was in the living room, she was in the living room. She became my shadow. Then, I went up to bed, I would say "Time for bed, Meest" and she would follow me. Every night she would sleep with me. And we were best friends. I could tell her all of my sadnesses and troubles and secrets and she would answer with a gentle purr and would tuck her head into my armpit or neck, she was a head butter. I cried many times into her fur, and she was always there for me. She would always come when called, and she made those difficult years easier, and she was truly my best friend through some hard times. Misty ALWAYS answered when talked to, she would answer me when I talked to her about things. And her mew was everyone's favorite, thanks to her history of abuse she had been left with a memorable squeak, that endeared her to everyone she met.
Misty also had her first bought with health problems at this time, and it was the first time I would save her life. I came home one day on Christmas break with my friend and immediately went to say hi to her as was the norm, and I couldn't find her, and then I did and she was laying on the ground, and her face was completely swollen, almost twice the normal size, her mouth was black, her nose was black, and she was having difficulty breathing. I called the animal hospital right away and they sent me to the emergency room. I held her in my arms and bawled as she moved in and out of consciousness, and then when I brought her in, they grilled me for a time as they suspected me of animal abuse because they could seek her broken teeth, maligned teeth, and scars. I explained her situation, and thankfully they believed me. They said if I had arrived ten minutes later she would not have survived. Misty had swallowed a Tylenol which is toxic to cats. My sister had left some out, having been sick, and Misty LOVED to bat things off of dressers, and pick things up in her mouth and run with them. Apparently the gel cap went down very easily. Over the next three days, Misty was at the hospital, I regularly called to check on her and they told me she was in a pink blanket and sleeping. They were able to detoxify her and bring her to health, I missed her so much, but was so glad she was able to be returned to me, loving and sweet as ever, none the worse for the wear.
Misty watched me graduate high school, begin college, and move out of the house and she came with me. I partially didn't want to live in a dorm because I didn't want to leave her behind. She always lived with me I am proud to say. The college years were difficult as well, my father's death played a tough role in my adolescence and I was having a lot of trouble figuring out who I wanted to be and in what kind of relationships. She was with me through it all. She was a good big sister to little Picabo and baby Maya who I adopted along the way, and she was always friendly to them. She would groom Picabo.
Some of Misty's favorite things to do you might ask? Lay in a sunbeam, look out a window, especially an open one. Play with little toy mice which she would bat with her front paws and run up and down the hallway. I have never seen a cat do this before and since, but she would take the mouse into her mouth toss it high into the air, and catch it on the ground. She also enjoyed playing with toys on strings and catnip toys. She had this cute way of playing on her back and holding the toy in her front paws, she loved to lay on her back with her belly up, which is a tribute to how trusting she felt with me after that time of being afraid for so long. Misty was a definite people lover, preferring men almost always. Misty loved to sit in a warm lap and she would stay longer than most cats, always trying to nuzzle with her face. Misty grew some nicknames over time: Meest, The Meest, Mi Meest, Moost-ti-ti, Moost, "She has gray lips and a green tooth", Gray lips, and later Meeps, and Merps. Any one who has ever heard us say it knows there was a certain way to call to Misty in a high pitched tone, kind of like "MEEEEEEEeeeeeeessst." And the funny thing was to watch other people who got to know her always repeating my silly way of talking to her and how they would do it too. I remember one friend telling me, " I never liked cats until I met Misty. You can't not like her." And this was true, after her beginnings of abuse, she never growled, attacked, or anything even remotely negative ever again. She was truly the sweetest cat ever, and full of love and affection. And the way she looked at you, you tell how she was feeling. She was a very special cat.
Misty watched me graduate from college, move on to the work world, and then she and I met Peter. I think Misty fell for Pete almost as hard as I did. I got more than a little jealous, as she began to prefer his lap and laying with him in bed. But we made a happy little family and I was glad there was someone in my life that loved her as much as I did (as well as my mom who always said Misty was her favorite, and made regular visits with her. She never forgot my mom.) Misty watched us get married and grow together, get a house. She adapted to many changes with ease, her favorite place was always with us. One of our favorite games with Mist was to ask her questions which made no sense because she always answered us. "Meest, do you play the stock market Meest?" "Mee-eh" "Meest bulls or bears Meest, bulls or bears? "Mee-eh" she'd squeak and we'd laugh. She was ever the little cuddle bear always around, happy to see you when you got home. If you walked by her and didn't pet her, she'd smack you as you walked past. She accepted Bucky into the family though he wasn't always nice to her, they would take the time to groom each other on occasion. And the other animals would always cuddle up to Mist when they found her in a warm spot because none of the other animals took any offense to her, so there are many pictures of her snuggled up with other kitties and puppy. One thing I wished I had done more for her- brush her. She loved the brush so much, you could pull it out any time and she would run to you, she'd rub against me when I brushed my own hair. She LOVED to be brushed. She'd take it away from you and put it between her paws, lying on her back, and brush herself.
About two years before the end of her life Misty went through multiple health problems, several surgeries due to her intestines being removed, and infections that were antibiotic resistant, and diabetes which we were never able to control. Misty spent many hours in carriers, surgery tables, and visiting specialists. Things waxed and waned, and we tried so many medications I lost count. We were able to stabilize her somewhat in 2007, though she had what we referred to as a pooping problem, and a water fixation. She became obsessed with food and water more than spending time with us. It was hard to watch, but she was a real trooper through at all. There were some near death misses, where we both cried and watched over her, and she'd always surprise us. She would always come back. She defied logic and expectation and the vets didn't know what to with her, she was well known at Just for Cats and well loved for her sweetness. Everyone was amazed she was able to pull through it all and be as sweet and loving as ever. Though her body grew weaker and her squeak smaller, her will never ceased. She always had lots of energy, tried to open any door we'd put her behind, climbed and jumped from high places, and other things that shocked us. We moved in November 2007 and we knew this would be the final move for her and we decided to make our basement a hospice care for her because of her urinary and fecal soiling that were unpleasant, but we loved her so cleaned it and cared for her. We would still visit with her and tried to construct ways for her to stay upstairs with us but she was too smart and too driven to be kept inside and she thwarted all of our efforts.
Even though we both knew she could not last, I think we hoped she would. She had gotten any worse over the past few months, she had remained stable on a new medication, she had plenty of energy and we had the vibe she could outlast us. We couldn't even remember the last "near miss" of death, and we thought she would keep on keeping on as she always had. But unfortunately her body gave out on 2/12/08 before her will possibly could. We were shocked we didn't see it coming so suddenly. In true Misty style, as at least 75% of her previous hospitalizations had been on holidays or snow storms, we had to bring her out in the middle of a dangerous ice storm. We brought her to the vet, to ease her passing. She was surrounded by the loving people who loved her in life. even fatal injections could not stop her tough little heart, it kept beating and wouldn't stop even at the very end when she could no longer consciously be with us. Even though it was extremely hard to watch her leave us, we were both grateful we could be with her when she went, it's what she would have wanted, having loved us as much as she did.
Misty's life was full of ups and downs, but she was always sweet and loving despite the bad that happened, she was able to focus on the good. She is a reminder to everyone about the spirit and soul of animals, and also a reminder to us all that there is good in all of life, even in the midst of suffering. There is always a good lap to be found, a hand to pat, and a bowl of food if we look hard enough and surround ourselves with the right loving people. I am proud to have been her mommy and knowing she touched so many lives, and it's only my happy memories of her that get me through this hard time. I don't want to think of her story as ending, I hope it can keep going and going on and that she will always be with us.
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