Polly 1993?-2010
Background:
In April 1996, a house in Northern Virginia was entered by the Sheriff's Department, Animal Care and Control, and a local Vet. Six cats were euthanized on the spot, and 102 emaciated and shell-shocked cats were taken to the county Shelter. Most were later euthanized, unfortunately.
In December 1996, after a house fire in which our two cats were asphyxiated, while picking up their ashes at the Vet's, I was introduced to #5 and #6, a bonded pair, who had been named Bart and Polly, both congenitally deaf, who had been living at the clinic. It was thought that they were probably two to three years old at that time. Shortly after their seizure/liberation, their three kittens were born. Polly became extremely ill and was unable to care for the kittens, but Bart took over their care. Polly was so ill that permission was given to euthanize her, but after a miraculous recovery with the help of a strange little old herb lady, at the eleventh hour, she survived to care for the two remaining kittens, who stayed on with the Vet.
I was fortunate to adopt Bart and Polly in April 1997.
We lost Bart in October 2008, and Polly did better than I expected she would without her other half.
However, over the past year, she had become quite “elderly”. Hard to evaluate, as she’d always been VERY quirky. Deliberately naughty, openly contemptuous of other cats, very outgoing and affectionate with all people, rude and snappish with the other cats, persistent about scratching the furniture, even the leather that “cats don’t scratch”. Probably a Tourette’s Syndrome sufferer, definitely pestered by Greeblingz. She’s had her ups and downs, sometimes not wanting to eat for a few days, other times “normal” (for her of course). About a week ago, she just didn’t want to eat anything, was sleeping more than usual, and losing weight. Bearing in mind that this was a cat who considered any type of examination or treatment to be flat out attempted murder, and dealt with accordingly, we’d made the decision to let her be comfortable and safe, at 16 plus, but no assaults unless intervention became necessary. I believe she had a small stroke last week, as she was developing ataxia. Saturday morning, she slept in the sunny spot under the window that overlooks Bart’s final resting place, and never woke up. She rests now beneath a new little Japanese Maple, next to her beloved Bart. She was preceded in death by her daughter Pipper, son Brogan, and Bart.
She was the last known survivor of that horrible situation in 1996.
Life will not be the same without my naughty little P.
Carol
