I’m a control freak. I admit it. I like to have some control over things and let’s face it, that’s not really how life works. Farm life has been SUCH a lesson in letting go.
Our beloved farm cat, a feral who appeared one day and stayed on our porch almost every day since, passed away last week. Casey was a special cat because in spite of being feral (she even had an ear notch to show that someone had gotten her vet care and spayed) she allowed me and my oldest daughter to pet her. She meowed on the porch for food, she guarded the chicks from harm (I’m serious, she did!), and she was a real joy to have around. Her presence made our farm feel complete. She was not a hunter; she occasionally pretended to be useful by half heartedly chasing a grasshopper or butterfly. But she really was special. My oldest daughter who says she doesn’t like any animal actually really loved her. A few months ago she said if anything happened to Casey she would be lost. That made me nervous because although she was on our porch every day she would also wander over to the neighbor’s or even occasionally across the street. We had talks with her about how important it was for her to stay on our property but she just didn’t listen. 🙁
Two Sundays ago Christine found her under the car panting and seeming very off. When she tried to touch her, Casey limped away–it seemed her back end was not working well. She cried and cried and laid down again further away. Any time we would approach her she was okay but if we tried to touch her she ran. Even in the state she was in we really could not catch her to put her in a crate and take her to the vet, but we did try. In the end we set up food and water for her and some goat milk in a saucer. She wasn’t interested. At one point she disappeared completely. We didn’t see her for a couple of days and then she appeared on our back porch one evening. She was drinking water. She looked a tad better. We wondered if maybe she would pull through. By that time we narrowed it down to either an invisible snake bite or poisoning b/c she didn’t seem like she was hit by a car and there was no blood on her. That was the last time we saw her alive. The next day she didn’t appear. Then the next morning Christine did a thorough search (after smelling something not so good) and found her body under the back deck.
Our neighbor said she had a cat last year that acted the same and they found out it was poisoned. Most likely the cats ate a mouse or rat that had already eaten poison and thus they were affected as well. That is what we think must have happened to her as well.
By the way, one of the other feral cats, one much more wild than Casey, stayed with her almost the entire time. We saw him the day Casey must have died come up by himself and he looked…different. I think it has been so neat to watch the cats “in the wild” and how they interact. They really do form friendships. He took care of her, I have no doubt. He was there when she was drinking water and he stayed by her side.
It hurts, you know? We told her to stay put. She had everything she needed here. But in the end she still traveled around. We gave her food and water and love. I know we did our best and that she died knowing she was loved and that she had a name. But gosh does it hurt my control side. If only she would have listened. If only we could have tamed her enough to keep her inside. Etc etc etc. It’s so hard to let go.
By the way, the name thing is so important to me. Some people cluck disapprovingly when we talk about our meat animals having names. The thing is, ALL animals deserve to have a name. A name is something special. And I will always give that to any animal that lives on our farm. Always.
RIP, Casey, we loved you and you will always be in our hearts.
