rest in peace, my sweet buttons :: photo tribute

I had to help Buttons cross over the rainbow bridge yesterday morning after a very long illness. I will always love my elfin little girl and carry her in my heart. I take comfort in the fact that she is now safe from suffering and everything unpleasant. She was the most tenacious little cat I have ever known.

A plumper Buttons during healthier times

Buttons was with me just over four years, after enduring a hellish life and countless blizzards in a filthy city gutter. I'm so happy she spent her "retirement" with me, Bossa Nova and Pablo, surrounded with love, food and comfy blankets instead of trash and scraps.

Me in 2007, making a shelter for Buttons and lining it with hay for warmth.

I first discovered Buttons living in a gutter in the alley behind my loft in 2007. The ex-husband would not let me bring her in, so I fed her everyday. I built her a cold-weather shelter and set out extra protective cardboard during snowstorms. Pablo, then a kitten, was also living in the same gutter with Buttons. [At first I though she was his mamma, but I later learned she was already neutered and much older than I thought.]

Buttons' original city-gutter home. She slept down under the grate and crawled out when I brought food.  As soon as I got too close though, she would run,

Eventually, I decided I had to trap Buttons. In deference to the ex, I promised to just foster her until I found her a home. [Ironically, he ended up being the foster.] If you click on the picture, you can see Buttons eating near the trap. It took about 5 tries until she finally walked into it and a better life.

Buttons spent her first weeks cowering behind the toilet.

The transition from alley cat to loft cat was rough for Buttons. Because I live in an open-floor loft. I had no choice but to keep her in the bathoom, where she hid behind the toilet and then the water heater for 3 weeks.

A dog crate helped Buttons adjust

Eventually I moved her to a dog crate that my friend Karen lent me. This was a tremendous help in socializing her. Pablo immediately recognized her from the gutter and as soon as I opened the crate, he dove in and started cleaning her.

"Okay, I think I like it here."

I handled Buttons often to socialize her. It took about 3 months for her to earn her LCE [Lap Cat Extraordinaire] degree.

After that, Buttons settled into loft kitty life: sleeping, eating, playing, cuddling, an occasional cat fight, and more of the same happy routine for the next four years.

Even though Bossa Nova hated Buttons at first, she grew to love her and gave her massive daily head butts.

About a year ago, Buttons started suffering from garden-variety geriatric illnesses and lost 2/3 her body weight [went from 9.5 to 3.8 pounds]. Over her last few months then weeks, she became frailer; instead of hopping on my lap, she meowed for me to pick her up and put her on my lap. One day, she stopped getting up to greet me at the bathroom door as had been her routine for the past 4 years. I knew she was saying goodbye and I tried to be aware of and cherish the beautiful, precious moments. In spite of this, she seemed content, in her present, and I could tell that she truly wanted to stick around

One of the last photos I took of Buttons, resting before we went to the vet yesterday,

...Until about a week ago. At that point, she could not even jump on the couch to nap. She walked by dragging her legs, but she still wanted to eat. Yesterday, she was too weak to stand, eat or make it to the litter box. It was time to let her go. She passed very peacefully, even though I was a mess. I have no idea how old she was at the time of her death – Dr. Eigner guessed late teens.

I've been through this before a few times, but experience does not help one navigate these losses. I know time heals, so I will try to endure until my heart aches less. But time also has a way of washing memories away. These are the things I don't want to forget about Buttons:

• Buttons meowed. A lot. Since she was profoundly deaf, she had no idea what a big voice she had. Her voice weighed more than her body.
• She knew some sign language. Because Buttons was deaf, "here, Kitty-Kitty" was wasted on her. So, I would gently wiggle my fingers, and she learned that this meant "Here, kitty." She always responded to it.
• Even though she couldn't hear me, I called her by a bunch of silly nicknames which I will keep between Buttons and me.
• She was a classic lap cat, despite her agoraphobic beginnings. She loved to cuddle in the nook of my armpit while I read or watched TV. She loved to sit on F-stop's lap and "listen" to him talk to her. She loved to bury her head in my hand, as if hiding. About a month ago, she was laying on my chest purring like a motor and I recorded this video [audio, really] of her.

• She made the most adorable, friendly trill sound whenever I initiated petting her as if to say "Hi!"
• She loved to be doted on. In the end, I had to coax her to eat, but I really think she liked the ritual. She had an adorable way of hobbling into the kitchen, looking up at me and meowing, waiting for me to tempt her with more food. She even tried a few nibbles of pumpkin the day before she passed. 
• She was tiny. She had the shortest legs and was never able to jump as high as the bed, even in the early days. Buttons was the equivalent of a Dachshund cat.

Buttons on my chalkboard, watching over us.

I made this drawing on my kitchen chalkboard yesterday, a few hours after Buttons left this life and its pain. It felt almost like she was posing for me from the other side. Having this big drawing in my loft makes me feel like Buttons is still here in a small way, watching over us.

All the moments we spend with those souls we love are precious. Hold your loved ones, furry and human, a little bit tighter, please.

I want to thank the wonderful staff at The Cat Doctor for caring for Buttons for all these years, especially Dr. Milner and Miriam. And I want to thank Dr. Eigner, Miriam, and Lori, and for making her transition so loving and for taking care of me, too.