Tasha - Brave explorer - R.I.P.

A late, late summer early fall day 2006. That durned feral cat I haven't been able to trap has had another litter in the old wine cellar under the front porch. I only knew this when they were being moved by "Mama" to their second stage den on the front bank. She had moved one of them, who was objecting LOUDLY about being left alone in a strange place. We checked on the baby, but knowing there had to be more of them, quit our yard work so the mother cat could finish her move. It wasn't until later that night that same kitten was yowling on the bank in the undergrowth. I finally found it, just sitting there alone, yowling. It had gotten quite chilly. Was baby alone? Was it hungry? Lost? Lonely? WTH is this kitten's problem, and where are its litter mates? Had Mama (yes, that was her final name at the vet's) been hit by a car? Holding the kitten inside my jacket and a flash light, we searched among the underbrush but could not find the nest. I took the baby inside, fed it, put it on the heating pad in the bathtub for the evening. We had gotten supplies that afternoon, so were prepared to bed and feed the kittens. I felt competent having just been through this the previous year with the Boots & Precious litter from that same mother. 

We found three more kittens the next afternoon. It seems like there should have been at least one more, but there wasn't. (The last one turned up several months later, was trapped and released. It was too feral by then. Over time, he became a little more hand tame and I was able to bring him in, as a young adult by then, and Mr. Gray was later adopted.) So, a litter of 4 kittens. Each had its own personality, but Tasha (that's what I named the 'yowler'; she was first "Sweet Face") was always the explorer. She was first to find the space between the bookcase and the wall (the depth of the shoe moulding and baseboard). She was first to reach the top cubby of the platform tower. She's maybe 3 or so months old in this image. She's just tall enough to see over the side rail of the resting square. Yes, that's about 11-feet above the floor in the image. We built a platform at handrail height and put a tall cat tower on top of that.  

She was first to try out cat grass, though she played with it more than she ate it. She was an active, curious, friendly but independent cat. She hates me photographing her. She actively avoids looking at me when I have the camera (seems that way anyway, hahaha). 

Tasha began physical decline a few months ago. She lost a good bit of weight from her pudgy size. The past few weeks, Tasha has barely eaten anything and I rarely see her drink. The past few days, she has objected strenuously if I tried to force syringe water into her mouth. She is nothing but skin and bones, despite every possible food I could offer her. She is tired, and weak. But she has such a strong will to live, her body keeps fighting somehow. She slowly walked through the master sun room a few days ago. She spent another after dinner hour or two in the family room. She wanted to join us yesterday morning. It took her a long time to walk the hallway to the family room, with several rest stops on the way. She did make it, but wanted to go back to the bedroom almost as soon as she arrived. She wanted to join us again this morning, but only made it halfway up the hall before she turned back. No, do not carry me there, thank you -- she objected and weakly struggled if I tried to help. She is barely more than a walking skeleton. I will miss the whole Tasha a lot. She no longer even sleeps with me at night.

She had more strength and will than many humans I know, but now is a mere shadow of the Tasha she was. She cannot be comfortable hanging over the water dish, but not drinking; occasionally sniffing the food, but not eating; not having the strength to jump to the counter top or walk the distance of the hall or scratch at the fiber mat in the sunroom. She can no longer let me know when she wants help. It is my responsibility to help her when she can no longer help herself. 

She is scheduled for Peaceful Passage this afternoon. We will bury her in the pet cemetery with Chip and the others.