We will miss you, Roxy

1993-2009


We are sad to say that Miss Roxy has passed away suddenly on Monday night, March 16th, just after 10 p.m. She was 16 years old.
Roxy was born into this world as a farm cat at my parents' house. I had moved out on my own, and chose Roxy to be my first roommate. However, I will admit that I thought she was a boy and had originally named her Marshall. When I finally realized my mistake, I renamed her Roxy.
Before she was a year old, I had to move back into my parents' house. She was now back to being a mostly outdoor cat. One day when my dad came home from work, Roxy decided to crawl up in the engine compartment of his truck where it was warm (I assume she had done this numerous times prior). Usually my dad would stay home once he got home from work. Not this night. He came in, took a quick shower, and was out the door to go to a meeting at church. He started up the truck and immediately heard a thump. He got out, looked under the truck and saw a little bit of white fuzz. He didn't see anything else, so left for his meeting.
A few days go by and I haven't seen her anywhere. I ask my mom if she'd seen Roxy, and my mom said to go look out on the back porch. So I think that she finally decided to come back to the house for some real food, and I open the door. What I see just about broke my heart. She is curled up in a ball on a blanket, looking tired and worn, and one of her front legs is barely hanging on. (We guess that she had originally went off to hide and die like injured animals are said to do, but when she didn't die, she came back for help).
And I helped her. I took her to the vet, not knowing what I was going to do. I only had a part time job and was going to school. I sat in the room with her, petting her. She didn't fuss when the vet touched her leg, or anywhere else. All she is doing is purring, looking at me. The vet gave me my options: put her down, or have her front leg amputated. He said that animals lead perfectly normal lives with only three legs. The only draw-back would be that it could shorten her life a little by adding the extra stress on her.
I was torn on what to do. I didn't have any money for the surgery, and I didn't know what having a handicapped cat would entail. But she was purring. And kept purring. And then the vet says to me while feeling her ribs and belly, "Did you know that she is pregnant? I feel three babies."
Wow.
I kept her. I had her leg amputated. Not only did she have to get used to only three legs, she had to get used to carrying the extra weight from the babies.
She gave birth to three healthy kittens. Shortly after weening her kittens from her and giving them new homes, Roxy and I moved to Bellingham . . . out on our own once again.
Kasha was introduced into Roxy's life when she was two. Roxy sure didn't like this little tiny kitten at all when she first showed up. But Kasha sure liked her. She would try to nurse from Roxy, and after awhile, it seemed like Roxy would allow the behavior.
Roxy and Kasha became the very best of friends, snuggling each other all the time, cleaning each other, and of course, "fighting" each other. The two have been inseparable ever since. Then this yellow dog shows up in November of 2001. Roxy was ticked off with me! But she soon put Maggie in her place, swatting her good on the nose with her good paw. Maggie realized that this was Roxy's turf, and that you don't mess with her. Roxy would lay in the middle of a doorway and Maggie would sit there and wait for either Roxy to move or someone to move her so she could come into the room . . . Maggie knew not to mess with her. Even if Roxy was standing by Maggie's food, Maggie wouldn't even attempt to eat.

Kasha is now starting to sense that her friend isn't coming back, and she is sad. Maggie doesn't seem to be too bothered. We humans miss her, too. We are shocked at the suddeness of her death. She didn't appear to be sick or anything like that. She ate her food that night and drank water, and she was moving around like normal. She got up on a pile of blankets on the couch and watched t.v. with us for a few hours. We heard her make a weird noise, so we rushed over to her. I held her paw and rubbed her head while she struggled to breath. Her death was fast, lasting less than a minute. We were there with her, and were glad that she didn't go through a long, drawn-out sickness and/or suffering like some of our friends' cats went through.
I still think I'll see her every time I walk into a room. And her indentation will forever remain on the back of the love seat as well as on the hearts' of every single one of us.

We had a good time, Roxy. Thank you for sharing your life with me.