My parents had been married for 55 years when on May 4, 1999 my Dad was out planting a bush in the yard and he suddenly keeled over. He was dead before he hit the ground of a massive heart attack. My Mom went into a deep depression and nothing would seem to pull her out of it for any length of time. When I moved in with her in September 2004 I did everything I could think to try and help her out of the depression she felt after losing the only man she had ever loved. Nothing ever seemed to work for long. Then one morning a miracle happened. As I went down to get my morning coffee a little black cat pranced out of my Mom’s bedroom. This is the story of how a little cat added years to the life of a grieving widow.
The first I knew of the kittens was when my Mom told me to be careful in the driveway because a mother cat had given birth to four kittens in the shed attached to the house. Momma cat was black as were three of the kittens with the fourth one being smokey gray. My Mom was not a cat person. The only pet she had ever loved was her dog Ruffles. She swore after the dog died she would never love another animal.
I should have suspected something was up when she asked if I wanted another kitten. I have had my cat Merlin since 1998. I made the mistake of thinking this was a rhetorical question and said something about sure I love cats. I figured she meant when Merlin passed away would I want to get another cat. Little did I know she had been letting one of the kittens into the house. So of course when I asked my Mom about the cat who waltzed out of her bedroom that morning it became “you said you wanted another cat.” Caregivers lesson number one listen very carefully to what they ask.
The cat managed to avoid getting stuck with the name Snickerdoodles when my brother and I refused the suggestion. She became known as Pixie. Mom made it very clear she was not going to fall in love with the cat. Needless to say we didn’t buy that for a moment. Of course Mom fell in love with her. Pixie was not only the smart one of the litter she was also full of personality. Of course the personality was that of a four door brat according to my cat Merlin who was constantly being tormented by this little rascal.
Pixie liked to run outside, hide, get into things and all the things that go with being named Pixie. She lives up to her name. Of course Mom fell in love with her. Pixie was able to do the one thing we could never get Mom to do and that was to retire. She worked until she was 82. She worked until I got the idea of telling her that Pixie really missed her when she was gone and would love to have her home full time. Caregiver rule number two sometimes you have to be sneaky and underhanded when dealing with extremely stubborn people.
Pixie discovered that if she were to get on Mom’s lap when she was resting in the easy chair that she could get her to stay put by taking her nap on Mom’s lap. Mom refused to disturb the cat. Sometimes Pixie just plain refused to get up. She was comfortable and Mom really didn’t need to mop the floor again. It was clean enough to eat off of any ways.
Pixie knew how to make us laugh. Sometimes she would get into things and sit and look at Mom like she was nuts when she scolded her. I remember one day Pixie pulled the aloe-vera plant out again. Mom put the cat on the counter and said to her, “Look at me young lady. Did you pull my plant out? How many times have I told you to leave my plant alone?” I had to make a quick exit to keep from cracking up.
Pixie was with Mom to the end. Around three in the morning on May 26, 2010 Mom’s heart finally gave out. Pixie was with her when she died. She stayed with her until my brother got home from work at 3:30 in the afternoon. I remember at the funeral my Mom’s only living sibling, her older sister nicknamed Bird, asking me, “Please tell me Pixie was with her when she died.” It was important for those of us who loved Mom so much to know she was not alone when she died.
Pixie has moved down with me. My Mom always referred to herself as Pixie’s Grandmother and me as Pixie’s Mother. She felt that Pixie wouldn’t miss her as much since she knew the cat would outlive her if she had me in her life. Pixie does miss Mom. We both do. She was as much of a caregiver as I was. She added an extra five years to my Mom’s life. The Doctor couldn’t figure out how my Mom lived so long after her last heart attack. Simple. She lived for a 10 pound, black cat with white spots on her throat, chest and tummy and huge gold eyes. She lived because Pixie loved her back.