So our eldest cat, Noel, hasn’t been feeling well for awhile now. For the last six months or so, she was vomitting regularly. We figured it was because she was just not chewing her food properly, because she has no teeth*. Well after a few months, I FINALLY convinced my mother to take her to the vet-after she projectile vomitted one night, causing such a bad splashback she needed a bath.
Well, they did her bloodwork, everything seemed okay, so the doctor recommended putting her on an antacid. No EKG-Mom didn’t want to put her through that.
After that-no more puking, other than the usual hairballs-which all cats do anyways.
But then the last couple nights, she was having the dry heaves, and then the night before last, she went into a severe sneezing fit, snot flying everywhere, etc.
Her breathing’s been labored, so Mom had made a vet’s appointment for today. We knew it was probably only about a month or two left for her. She’s 12 years old, after all.
Well, I laid down for about an hour earlier, as I had a pounding headache. Mom came in as I was waking up.
“Noel’s gone.” She told me that she had gone into severe cardiac arrest at the animal hospital.
When we got Noel, I was 18, and going through severe depression. It may sound stupid, but having a new kitten around was kind of helpful. Our Fluffy was 12 when we got Noel, and the latter used to torment the living HELL out of poor Fluffy. She’d chase Fluffy up and down the stairs, jump all over her, bat her constantly in the face, and when Fluffy was laying down somewhere, Noel would try and squeeze up really close and try to cuddle. Fluffy, at 12, was in fairly good health and made it to 16. But eventually, they came to tolerate each other. When Fluffy died, Noel kept looking at me, as if to say, “Where is she?”
Our dog at the time, a Westie named Lassie (my SISTER named her), adopted Noel, and was extra protective of her. After Lassie died, we got another Westie, Lexie, and Noel took over the role of protector of the other cats. When she thought Lexie had hurt them, (even if she hadn’t), she’d JUMP on the dog’s back, and start whaling the tar out of her. My mother was badly bitten once trying to separate the two of them.
Noel liked to wake everyone up in the middle of the night, rattling things on my mother’s dresser-not necessarily because she was hungry, or even wanted attention-just because she wanted someone to be awake.
She had a fetish for plastic-if you had a plastic wrapper, or bag, you had to get it out of the way, because she’d start licking and chewing it, and she’d get really pissed if you tried to take it off of her.
She was the only cat I knew of who LIKED to be picked up and carried around. The others would prefer to come to you and then cuddle. Not Noel.
I miss you, Noel.
I lost another cat around this time last year-our Misty died of nasal cancer at the age of 8.
(Unfortunately, I don’t have any pictures of them online right now.)
*She had to have them pulled years ago, due to a gum condition-it was almost like her gums were allergic to her enamel is how the vet described it.
