Berns the Kitty

Our cat, Berns, has been with me for over 14 years. I adopted her, so I don't really even know how old she is, but it is clear that she is reaching the end of her time. She has lived with Molly at times, Case McCrea for awhile and has had to put up with baby Sawyer, baby Haakon and baby Lars. (I'm sorry, kitty)

When she was young, in Madison, she liked to stand up tall like a meercat or prairie dog so she could see more. Sometimes I would catch her standing on the back of the couch or the back of an arm chair so she was even taller. She would hold that impossible pose for incredibly long periods of time. We finally just got used to it--shaking our heads, smirking and walking by. I wonder when she quit doing that... when was she finally satisfied to be a cat-height cat? I didn't notice when she stopped.

Berns is a real love-seeker. Some cats are independent and crotchety. But Berns likes her fair share of the love. She has a homing device that causes her to be standing on my hip, lap or belly the second I lift my feet off the ground. It is charming to be sure, but I am a spacer-needer as much as she is a love-seeker and sometimes we'd have a showdown of wills. Cat up, cat down, cat up, cat down, cat up, cat down, cat up in a compromise location, cat wins. Lately, I let her stay on top without a fight. She is feeble and skinny and I wouldn't dream of tossing her down to the floor.

Berns, like lots of older kitties, has kidney disease. Her health is slipping and it has been dramatic for about 8 months. Instead of tall and proud, she walks low to the ground, tail down. You wince to see her creaky hips and joints try to recover from her extended naps and ache when her little legs give out under her when she walks on the wooden floor. She drinks water all day, but it clearly goes right through her, not replenishing the frail and bony body.

We're going to have her put to sleep tomorrow. We know it's time, but that doesn't change the fact that she's a living creature who we have decided to put to her death. It's hard. Today, though, we found some peace recognizing that she is aggressively seeking comfort. She is following us around which we mistook as a hopeful sign. I owe it to her to help her stop hurting.

When we got home from Camp next week we will have a Berns-emony in our beautiful, peaceful yard. And maybe we can find a nice high place for her ashes to take wing.