Tribute to Yoda, my 9/11 kitty

Yesterday was a tough day.  I had to say good-bye to Yoda, my kitty who was being born on that fateful day 9/11/01.  I was at work watching the shocking news on the internet, and when I called home, Lily was birthing her babies, so Shelly had no idea what was going on.  I got home around noon since our office closed for the day.  Shanksville wasn't very far away either, so we didn't know what was in store for us.  Some of our employees had spouses who were locked down at Letterkenny Army base in town.  I felt dispair with a little joy that day, seeing the 4 healthy kittens in my bedroom closet.  Lily was scared, but a good mother to her brood. 

As the kittens grew older, we decided to find good homes for them, but we decided to keep one of them.  Yoda was named because he had a cute round squashed face.  By Christmas time, he was active and a terror.  We put up a Christmas tree in the living room bay window, and he managed to pull it down twice by climbing up the trunk and tipping it over.  We finally wired it to the wall.  Somewhere I have a picture of him sitting on the top of the curtain rods - he always loved being in dizzyingly high places. 

In 2002, we moved to NYC where he lived a happy life.  He was always an indoor cat, but on occasion, I would take him down to the Esplanade on a harness and leash.  When we moved uptdown to a bigger apartment, his sole goal is life was to trip me as I walked down the hallway.  He had a habit of walking right in front of me so I would be sure and trip over him!  He also spent time terrorizing his mother, Lily.  He would chase her around the apartment and sometimes she would fight back.  He would steal her toys and food, and she always gave in to him.  I guess that's what mothers do. 

Yoda loved bacon.  We always have a big Sunday breakfast, we call it our hear-attack breakfast, with eggs, bacon and hash browns.  Yoda always hopped up for a tiny piece and would often steal Lily's morsel as well.  She always let him take hers.  Ah, mothers...I think we're all alike. 

We moved to upstate NY in July 2009 to a new house.  The first week, the cats were a bit disoriented, but they adjusted to their new surroundings after about a week.  True to his nature, Yoda found the highest spots in the house to perch, including the big walls of windows in the Great room and kitchen.  How he got up there, I have no clue, but he found a way.  I had to be careful where I placed good glass. 

A few weeks back, we noticed that Yoda spent the entire day sitting on a chair, not eating or drinking water.  Just quiet, not sleeping, just sitting.  That was unusual.  Being new to the area, I called a local vet hospital, but they were closed, so I found a place in Binghamton about 15 miles away and we had him checked out there.  They found a mass in his stomach.  Shortly after that, we took him to a specialized vet hospital in Ithaca NY for a sonogram, and we were told it looked like a lymphoma in his intestines.  It didn't look good, but we could keep him going on shots like Prednizone for awhile, which we chose to do.  We had a houseful of guests coming for Labor Day weekend and I wanted my  daughters to be able to see him normal for the last time.  After his first shot, his appetite returned.  He just didn't seem like a sick kitty, but the tumor was growing and getting harder. 

After about 2 weeks, he once again just sat and stared. He wasn't in any pain it seemed, but he wasn't active, eating or drinking water.  We decided not to drag it out - he was losing weight and thin as can be.  It didn't seem as if a miracle would happen, so we made the tough decision to let it end.  I was the stoic through it all, but when I returned to the car, I broke down and bawled my eyes out.  I felt so guilty.  My last words to him were "please don't be mad at me" and gave him a kiss and a hug. 

I miss you Yoda.  I hope you'll find many friends in kitty heaven.  You'll always be my 9/11 kitty, and Lily misses you too.