Well, yesterday was the one year anniversary of our Shivers passing on. Silly, stubborn old thing. It was a tough day, but we made it. It’s still hard to believe she’s really gone. I still catch sight of white things out of the corner of my eye, and think it’s her. I don’t think the loss gets easier, but it gets easier to talk about the good things.
I haven’t done a lot of cleaning or moving things around for a few weeks. It made my chest tight just thinking about it. The time has come, though.
Here is Shivers’ dish. I think it’s time to wash it, don’t you?
Here are her infamous peacock feathers, with Oswald deciding he’d like to be in the photo. Many, many thanks to the ladies at H3 who supplied them for us. No other cats will touch them – they’re still too intimidated by her to play with her toys. 
I’m going to compost the feathers rather than throw them out. I have no idea how long it takes to compost feathers. Guess I’ll find out?
I keep seeing this blanket out of the corner of my eye, and thinking it’s our white kitty.
So I swapped it for a brown blanket. We get a heck of a draft under that door. I keep thinking I’ll make a draft snake, but never seem to get around to it.
It’s been a difficult time, but it’s getting easier. We’re starting to tell funny stories when we talk about her, now.
We lost Miss Shivery Bob last Tuesday (January 18th). We’d always known that when she decided she was done, it would be quick. We just hadn’t quite realized how quick. It was as if she woke up last Saturday, looked around, and nodded in satisfaction that her work was done. There was no long, steady decline. She went from playing and mischief to not eating or interacting, in the space of three days. The change was shocking. She just decided she was done.
It was a very, very Shivers thing to do. She has always been her own cat and wasn’t lukewarm about anything. Shivers made it as clear as she could that she was ready, and even went so far as to cuddle the vet tech – something she has never done before. She curled up in my lap at the vet’s, with Travis petting her. She went peacefully and willingly, and on her own schedule. We should all be so lucky.
Below is what my mom had to say when I told her, and I think it sums everything up nicely. I hope she doesn’t mind my quoting her email.
O, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I know how much you loved her and how she saved your sanity when you got her. I’ll never forget the first time I saw her. It was on our front deck under the bbq. She was so lost and alone, just like you felt. Then Kelly trapped her and took her in to the vet. The next weekend you came home and told me you wanted a cat, and I knew just the one for you. I know how you feel and how you will miss her. I know you have others, but also know they will not take her place.
Shivers, your dad and I miss you very much. It was an amazing 13 years. Thanks, kiddo.
Shivers is down about a pound, and her kidneys have decompensated again. We could really use some good thoughts right now.
We’d got her back on fluid therapy, with the addition of some vitamin B. The addition can’t hurt, and it might help. It makes the saline bag a funny orangey-pink color, though. That’s kind of a trip. She’s also on cyproheptadine for an appetite stimulant. The bad thing is that she just throws up the tablet. So we’re looking into something for nausea and emesis. When Dr. Carney is back in town tomorrow, we’ll check into options for raising her potassium levels.
Big thanks to Dr. Howlett for taking such good care of her yesterday. She’s kind of his nemesis. 
When we gave her fluids at the clinic yesterday, she didn’t even fuss, which has me more worried than anything else going on. This is the cat that’s so needle-sensitive that we have to give her a mild sedative just to vaccinate her. Otherwise someone is going to get bit. She didn’t fuss when the doctor drew blood for tests, either. We could have hospitalized her. It was an option. No one is at the clinic at night, though, and she’d have been alone. Also, with her little needle-phobia it would have been near impossible to keep her on IV fluids anyway. In her case subcutaneous fluids are the best option, and we can give those at home. If she were four years old, or even just ten or twelve, we might have given hospitalization more thought. But this isn’t her first bout with kidney issues, and she’s fourteen. She’s lived on borrowed time for years. We’ve been very lucky.
Shivers is crabbier than usual, and has no energy. She doesn’t want to eat anything – even mozzarella failed to interest her. Travis and I are both pretty worried. Please wish us luck for her recovery, or failing that, for her to be comfortable and happy.
From the desk of Shivers:
Mom’s been intending to write a newsletter for years, but seeing as she’s just too lazy and has foolishly left her laptop open, I’ve decided to write one myself. Being a wise 14 year old white cat, I have a lot to say on the state of things that go on around here.
First off, I’m not dead yet. The vet’s initial prognosis (given in June 2009) was way off. I plan on seeing my 30th birthday, at the very least. Take that, monkeys! You can put those “kidney values” where the sun don’t shine. I think that’s somewhere in Alaska. Just keep the canned food and head scratches coming. The heated beds were a nice touch, too.
Mom and The Guy moved us again. Ugh. What a hassle. I have no idea where all my old peacock feathers went, but at least I was given new ones. It’s lucky for everyone that my llama ball toy was found, otherwise I couldn’t have been held responsible for my actions.
The new place has lots of room, and best of all, stairs. I’d forgotten how much fun stairs are. My new favorite game is to play Rocket Kitty up and down the stairs at 3:00 AM, with my peacock feather clenched firmly between my teeth like a flamenco dancer’s rose, while wailing an opera of my own composition. Mom usually takes my feathers away before bed, now. Monkeys have no appreciation for the arts.
There’s also a large garden space out in the backyard. Oh yeah. I can’t wait to roll in that. We’ll get to hang out back there this summer, but only under close supervision, and only after our microchip information has been updated. I tell ya, zip through the fence and nap under the neighbor’s house just once, and they never let you forget it.
Gabe (The Guy’s son) is doing fantastic with his ear scratching technique. He’s got real talent. I also hear that he’s equally talented with the viola now, and is doing great in school. Pfft. The future’s in ear scratching and opening canned food, believe me. In any case, he’s a great kid and doing well in life. I can’t believe he’s 12! He’s got even more energy than I did at that age, and that’s saying something. He’s getting braces, soon, too. I think it’s supposed to help with his hunting abilities.
Maggie Mae has been attempting to beat her best weight ever by eating anything and everything that she can. Despite Mom’s best efforts, she is now strikingly potato-shaped. Oswald Underfoot has decided to get in touch with his heritage (Siamese) and is exploring exciting new vowel sounds. Jayne Cobb is trying to be braver. No luck so far. I have finally conned Travis and mom into feeding me only canned Avoderm Select Cuts and Wellness chicken. That’s right. Twelve years of planning have finally come to fruition.
Travis (The Guy) got licensed in ham radio. I know it sounds tasty, but trust me – that radio is nasty to chew on. Just don’t do it. He seems to really enjoy babbling at it, though. Travis and Mom seem to be trucking along just fine. At least, there’s been no interruption in the food and attention department. Comes to the same thing. Hopefully 2011 will be even better. Have a great holiday, everyone!
-Shivers