Goodbye, Miss Lady Vayda

I apologize in advance for the length of this entry... this is more of a story than a blog entry. While I normally try to keep things lighthearded, the subject matter of this particular blog is a little heavy. Be prepared.

Five months ago I was blessed with a kitty who needed me. Her name was Lady, and she came to me from despicable conditions, dirty and sick from having spent the last six months of a New England winter living in a cold, dark, dirty basement… She had no human interaction, and she slept under a furnace for warmth. Occasionally, someone would come downstairs to do laundry and Lady would jump up to greet them, desperate for their attention, until she got too sick to do even do that. She had a raging respiratory infection which limited her breathing, she was losing weight, and she had even stopped cleaning herself. Had an angel by the name of Justine (who is my landlord and good friend) not intervened, Lady surely would have died down there. Right there in her fur and vomit covered dog bed, under the furnace, sick, dirty… and most disturbingly of all… completely and utterly alone.

Five months later, I think back to those first few days when Lady came into my life. I remember taking one look at her and being absolutely appalled at her appearance. She was so dirty I didn’t even want to touch her. She would sneeze and cover anything she was sitting on in a thick green mucus. She would crouch down when standing on all fours, because she was literally petrified of all the attention. I remember thinking to myself “I can’t believe this animal was under a person’s 'care'" – and I am using the word "care" very loosely here. She looked like a stray. I honestly don’t believe she would have lived another two weeks if she hadn’t been rescued by Justine.

Circumstances prevented Lady from staying upstairs in Justine’s apartment as Justine has two other animals that would have been susceptible to the infection, so I offered to let her stay downstairs with me until she was in better health. I thought of her as sort of a temporary roommate, and gave her free reign of the house to do as she pleased. Even still she spent the first night curled up on the couch. I think she slept for about 14 hours straight that night. She literally did not move, and we just let her sleep it off... like her previous existence was nothing more than a bad dream. The next day when I got home from work, I found her curled up in the exact same position, only instead of being on the couch she was in my bedroom, perched on top of my bed like she had been there her entire life... and that’s pretty much where she stayed put for our entire five months together.

I can’t exactly pinpoint when my home stopped being a temporary “pitstop” for Lady, but needless to say within a few days I told Justine it was safe to call off the search for a new owner. Although, I did not want or need a pet at the time, Lady definitely needed ME and that’s all that mattered. I felt a very strong obligation to this animal to give her a happy and loving home for the remainder of her days. Her given name was Lady, but we called her Vayda or Lady Vayda, due to the fact that her breathing was so loud from the congestion of her respiratory inflammation that we could hear her come into the room even before we saw her. My boyfriend joked one time that it sounded like Darth Vader just waked in the room, and since then, it just stuck. “Lady Vayda” it was.

The first few weeks were not easy. Lady Vayda was still very ill, and required some serious antibiotics to cure her of her infections. She sneezed on everything, and covered everything with her mucus. She would scarf up her food as though she was never going to eat again. She was still very timid around people, and I remember one time I accidently stepped on her (I was not used to having an animal underfoot!) and she bolted from the room, petrified. I searched for her and I finally found her crouched and hiding behind the furnace in the laundry room. I think she may have derived some sort of comfort from the furnace, as that’s where she had spent the last six months. It absolutely broke my heart.

When we first got Vayda, she had a habit of sleeping directly on top of my boyfriend’s chest. It used to freak him out. He would wake up in the middle of the night and she’d be on top of his chest, literally two inches from his face staring him in the eye. He would pick her up and move her into the space between us, and she’d crawl right back on top of him, and the cycle would repeat itself over, and over again. It used to drive him crazy, but he eventually came to find it endearing. Well, actually he was forced to eventually find it endearing as I made no qualms about the fact that if that’s where Vayda wanted to sleep, well than that’s where she’d damn well be sleeping. He was more than welcome to go sleep under the furnace if he liked.

Eventually it all sort of came together, and it began to feel as though Vayda had always been there. She was the perfect pet. I honestly believe she was genuinely grateful to us for rescuing her and nursing her back to health, and I myself was head over heels in love with her. I looked forward to coming home and seeing her at night, and I took comfort when she slept above my head on the pillow. I would fall asleep every night listening to her purring above me. It was a really a wonderful time in my life for me.

About six weeks ago Vayda started getting sick again, and it was traumatic for all of us involved who cared so much about her – myself, my boyfriend Matt, and Justine. I am honest when I say that I have never felt more powerless in my entire life. I think we all knew what was coming, even before any of us could form the words to say it. About a month ago, we took her to the vet, and she gently informed us that we needed to start making some tough decisions as it was simply “Vayda’s time”, and that we needed to “allow her to die with some dignity”. Vayda was sixteen years old, and we needed to respect that. She did not have a lot (or any, really) options available to her. So we talked to another vet…. and then a friend who works for a vet… and then we tried doing our own research on the internet… the answer was always the same, and it was never what we wanted to hear.

As I stated in my previous blog, the decision to put her down wasn’t necessarily that hard to make. It was actually going through with it that was the hard part. After weeks of putting it off, I finally made the appointment last Thursday, and it was scheduled for yesterday at 2:30 p.m. I only wanted what was best for her, and it was becoming more and more apparent as the days went on that what was best for her was no longer of this world. In her last few days she started doing what cats do when they’re about to die… she was looking for a place to go in peace. I caught her a few times under my bureau, and Justine found her once – sadly enough – curled up behind the furnace.

Knowing that she was virtually at the end did not make this any easier on any of us. For me personally, I think that these past few days have been the most difficult I’ve ever experienced in my twenty eight years. My heart is literally broken in half over the loss of my beloved Vayda, and I am overwhelmed by all the conflicting emotions that I have surrounding the toughest decision I’ve ever had to make. I feel very guilty, although I know in my heart that it needed to be done. I would never have done it if I even had one glimmer of doubt that maybe it wasn’t the right thing. I feel incredibly sad because I just miss her so damned much already. Last night was particularly hard because I didn’t drift off to sleep listening to her purr behind my head as I normally do. Getting ready for work this morning, I was overcome with emotion because she wasn’t standing there patiently in front of her food dish when I got out of the shower, ready to be fed. As I type this, I am sitting at work two hours past closing time as I dread going home to an empty house. And mixed in somewhere with all that guilt and sadness, I am also a little angry that I didn’t have more time with her. Those six months she spent alone under the furnace… I would do ANYTHING to have had those six months with her. Those people had no idea what they were missing.

I know that the healing will take time, and I know that eventually I will make peace with myself for my decision, but right now I just need some time to mourn my beautiful kitty. Yesterday, on August 26th at 2:30 p.m. my beloved Lady Vayda passed away, peacefully, and full of love. It is nothing short of amazing to me that this cat went from being horribly neglected and unwanted to being one of the most loved, adored and cared for animals this world has ever seen. She brought happiness to each one of us, and in turn she was absolutely adored by us all until the very end. I honestly believe in my heart that it was fate that brought Vayda to us, and I take solace in knowing that did exactly what it was that I set out to do – I gave her a comfortable, peaceful home full of love for the remainder of her days, just as she always deserved.



Rest in peace my love.