You were always a good kitty. You weren’t too bright but you were sweet. You probably deserved a better owner.
I ‘m going to miss you. Who’s going to let me know when Boris is trapped in the bathroom or tell me when the water dish is low?
I hope I didn’t let you go too soon or wait too long. I wanted to give you a chance to get better. I hope wherever you are there are lots of toys and catnip and food that isn’t that nasty diabetic formula you didn’t like.
Oh, sweet girl. She looks just like my foster cat. Take the time to mourn her. So sorry for your loss.
So sorry. It’s always hard. You did the right thing.
ETA: what an adorable cat. I love black kitties.
I have a black kitteh named Ursula. Black kittehs are the best. I’m sorry for your loss.
I’m so glad that you and Natasha had a chance to know each and spend time together. You done good, psychobunny.
Natasha looked like my beloved Paris, whom I lost last year. Except he had intense blue-green eyes. Yeah, black kitties are the best. I’m so sorry for your loss.
What a beautiful house panther. I’m so sorry.
It hurts like hell to lose a beloved pet. One of my cats, now gone, named Tobermory, was solid black. He shed all over the place too, and I am so sorry not to have to deal with that now.
Maybe he and Natasha will meet up beyond the bridge. So sorry for your loss.
She was a beautiful kitty. Thank you for sharing her with us. {{{hugs}}}
I’m sorry for your loss; I had cats growing up and was torn whenever I lost one.
Hugs to you. I also once had a cat named Natasha; both of them were beautiful.
I’m so sorry. She was a beautiful cat who had a wonderful human who knew just how to care for her and when to let her go.
I’ve had black ones, white ones, and tabbies. My tabby is on my lap as I send you hugs and condolences. They’re all special, and I’ll bet you were as sweet to her as she was to you. She’s telling all the other cats how good you are. Maybe one that hasn’t been born yet and will need to pick a human companion one day.
I’m so sorry. I, too, have a soft spot for the black ones. I have two. One of my others (a tortie) is almost 18 and hasn’t felt like eating much the last couple days. I’m starting to worry but hopefully she will perk up today. It’s so hard when you know their days are numbered.
I am so sorry, psychobunny. You’re a good cat owner and I’m glad you still have Boris.
Your pictures made me laugh because I have a long-haired black cat named Whitney, and she’s also near impossible to photograph.
So sorry about your little friend.
I was too upset the other day to post Natasha’s story but I will do so today.
Natasha’s story begins in early May 2004, when some employees at a local Geico office found a box outside their door. Inside were 4 tiny kittens, much too young to be on their own. There was no clue who had left them there or why. Luckily, there were several kindhearted people there who wanted to help foster them. The patterned ones were snatched up first, leaving the two black ones, a big black boy and his tiny black sister. One of the kind employees took them home. Her vet estimated that they were about 3 1/2 weeks old. The boy was easily bottle fed but the little girl wouldn’t eat. They tried all kinds of tricks to get her to take a bottle and finally resorted to rubbing molasses on her gums. Once they ate, the kitttens grew quickly. The little girl was nicknamed Monkey Girl because she wouldn’t stop climbing.
When they were about 6 weeks old, the foster mother was talking to her mother who was the office manager for a local doctor. The mother said that the doctor was thinking about getting cats and had wanted two so that they would not be lonely. The foster brought the kittens in to the medical office where the doctor met them and decided that they were Boris and Natasha and should come live with her as soon as they were taking solid food regularly. A week or two later, they came to live with the doctor. She had never had cats before so they had to teach her all about how to care for them. She had wanted cats you could pick up and cuddle and everybody had said that since these cats had been bottle fed they would like being held. Everybody was wrong. Both Boris and Natasha preferred all four feet on the ground at all times, thank you very much.
The cats continued to grow and thrive. Natasha in particular liked nothing more than food. While Boris was know to eat random strange things like plastic bags, a rubber snake and a penny, Natasha was content with cat food although she loved nothing more than the water from a can of tuna fish. While Boris had no use for catnip, Natasha loved it and would roll around in it and lick her paws obsessively. She loved to chew on her owner’s hair. no matter how much she was scolded for it. She grew more solid and didn’t jump and play as much and began to look more like the stereotypical cat of popular media (which is apparently a British Shorthair). When she went back for her 2 year check-up, the vet was alarmed to find that she had ballooned to 18 pounds. She was started on a diet and over the next year got back down to her fighting weight of about 11 pounds. She began to jump and play more and it was found that she actually was designed to have sharp cheekbones and a pointed chin. In fact, while Boris was big and solid, Natasha was long and thin and had tiny little paws and when she walked on you it was like she was wearing stilettos. She was nicknamed Supermodel Kitty because she was tall and thin, with great cheekbones and stilleto feet and always dressed in black.
Natasha loved her toys, especially those shaped like mice that she could carry around. Her absolute favorites, though, were a little stuffed chicken and a couple that were shaped like sushi. She loved to bring them to you and drop them at your feet, hoping that you would throw them. She would then skitter off over the hardwood floor to bring them back. She could play fetch over and over. She also loved people. Although she was somewhat shy, if guests came over, she would come down after 20-30 minutes to beg for pets and loving. Meanwhile, her brother wold stay hidden. In addition, he was always getting into places where he didn’t belong and getting trapped. He would sneak into the bathroom and paw at the door until it closed. Natasha would come find her owner and meow at her until they went and rescued Boris. One day, the AC was out and the windows were open. The owner took a nap and woke up to find Boris on the windowsill and Natasha nowhere in sight. Looking closer, she found the corner of the window screen pushed out and Natasha up on the 3rd floor roof. She called to Natasha, who as a good kitty came right inside without injury. The window was fixed, but it was pretty clear that Boris was to blame.
There was a thread here about what occupation your pet would have it said pet was a human. It was determined that Natasha would be a local news anchor. Her strengths were looking pretty and reporting on what was happening. She wasn’t the brightest of cats and didn’t seem to have natural “cat instincts”. She always used her litter box but then walked away and left Boris to cover up for her. She always made sure to check her water before drinking, probably to make sure she didn’t accidentally get her whiskers wet. Initially she would tap the surface with a paw then elegantly shake it clean. Later, she simply shook the entire bowl.
After years and years of being told what a sweet kitty she was, about 4 years ago Natasha developed diabetes. She put up with insulin injections twice a day and a change in her food to a diabetic formula. She always seemed upset that Boris got the good food and a strict routine had to be established. Natasha’s food was put in the bathroom and when she eagerly went in to eat, she was given her insulin and shut in while Boris got his food in another room. There was then a wait of 15-30 minutes for Boris to gradually finish his food and finally she was released. She would immediately race to his bowl to scavenge any remaining crumbs and lick the bowl clean. Unfortunately, despite the insulin her diabetes grew worse. Her insulin needs increased and increased until she started having attacks of low blood sugar where she became confused and didn’t eat. She had to be repeatedly directed back to her food bowl where she was repeatedly delighted to find food remaining. She made several trips to the doctor where her sugars ranged from dangerously low at 43 to high at 350 on the identical food and insulin regimen. She also developed some arthritis in her back and seemed to be less eager to climb the townhouse stairs.
Boris had never been good at finishing his food but Natasha always ate. However, starting last week, when she was released from the bathroom, there was food left in her bowl. She still immediately made a beeline for Boris’ dish to scavenge his leftover crumbs. A decision was made to leave the bathroom door open to see if the food disappeared and the first day or so it was all gone by the next feeding time. However, last Tuesday night, the food sat in both bowls for over 12 hours. Natasha also seemed more tired climbing the stairs. It was decided that if she didn’t eat overnight, she would be taken to the vet. The following morning, she went to the vet, where her sugar was very high at 1280 and her kidneys were failing. She was given fluids and insulin but the vet felt she needed to be in ICU. She was transported to a larger hospital and put in intensive care on IV insulin and fluids. The vet gave her only a 30% chance of survival. She said that most cats this sick were not conscious and that it could take 2 weeks in ICU to get better. It was decided to give Natasha a change to recover but her kidney function did not recover significantly over the next 2 days. She was also anemic and having trouble maintaining her temperature. In addition, this cat who loved nothing more than food, refused to eat. On Friday, it was decided to end her suffering. I went in and held her for about 10 minutes and initially she didn’t even struggle. Finally, she pushed back with both front paws to try to escape and that was when we decided that the time had come to finally say goodbye.
The clinic where she was in ICU has veterinary interns and residents and they gave me the option of donating her body for research purposes and for them to practice procedures. Hopefully, someday some other kitty will benefit from having a better-trained doctor treating her. I think she would have liked to be helpful.
So I hope this has been a fitting tribute to my elegant Natasha, the Monkey Girl, the Supermodel Kitty, the Principessa, Tasha, Tash-Tash, Hamentashen, Catentashen, Sweetest Kitty Ever.
Who is chopping onions in here?
What a wonderful story.
What a beautiful tribute. What a beautiful little soul. I know how much you will miss her. Hugs to you.