G is for -- Goodbye.

"Hey, where is our black sista with the blurry white spots on her back," asked Mattie. She lifted up her left paw and assiduously licked both sides of it. Pausing in her washing routine, she continued, "I haven't seen her around since this morning."

Little Debbie (aka Fat Debbie) reluctantly left her dinner plate and waddled closer. "You don't know?" she hissed under her breath.

"Nope. Haven't seen her lately and was just wondering. She parades around the house like she's some kind of princess. It's such fun to hide behind the recliner and jump out as she's sashaying by and bop her on her nose. So where is she?"

Little Debbie closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "She's gone."

"Whaddya mean 'gone'? Like she stupidly ran out the front door when Daniel went out to get the mail? Doesn't she realize the temps are going to drop again? She'd never survive outside when it's zero degrees. She's just skin and bones and matted fur."

Little Debbie opened her eyes and took another deep breath. "No, not gone like ran away gone. Gone-gone."

"What the heck does that mean? Oh, wait! I get it. Our human staff -- as you know, dogs have owners; cats have staff -- finally realized what a pain she is and decided to give her away."

Little Debbie waddled even closer and gave Mattie's face a gentle pat with her paw. "It's even worse than that. You remember that the staff took her to the kitty doc-doc a bunch of times a few months ago to treat that bladder stone and her constipation, right?"

"Yeah. So? She got several enemas and special food and is okay now, isn't she? She even went back to rhe kitty doc-doc a few days ago, but nobody said anything more about that."

"Some stuff got fixed but something else was wrong that the tests didn't show." Little Debbie sighed.

"Oh, c'mon. She seems to be doing just fine -- yes, she's a bit skinny and her fur is quite matted, but she's been sitting in the windows, talking to the birds and squirrels, and sleeping on her heating pad (and on MINE TOO!) and using her litter box and eating like there's no tomorrow. In fact, she's been eating OUR share of food that we've turn our noses up at and is ruining our cat-like reputation for being finicky!" Mattie exclaimed indignantly.

"Calm down," Little Debbie warned. "Cats are supposed to be calm. Back to the subject of where she is -- I heard the staff talking quietly last night."

"And ...?"

"The staff's conclusion was that, since Dido isn't gaining any weight and she's really slowing down, maybe her time has come. And she yowls now and then. Supposedly, that's a sign of confusion and old-age dementia in cats."

"Huh? 'Her time' they said? Her time for what?"

Little Debbie closed her eyes again, sighed, then opened them. "Time for Dido to cross the Rainbow Bridge. In fact, the staff took her to the kitty doc-doc for the last time this morning. The kitty doc-doc gently sent her on her way across the bridge around 11:30."

A look of horror crossed Mattie's face. "So Dido's in kitty heaven now? Wait a minute! If she's gone, who am I going to pick on?"

Tears rolled down Little Debbie's cheeks. "I didn't like her all that much either. I hissed at her when she walked past me and tried to chase her into another room. I even called her nasty names under my breath. Like you said, she acted like a princess, but she never gave us any trouble. In fact, I was even a bit jealous of the attention she got. The staff liked to cuddle with her and brush her and carry her around the house like she was a precious human newborn baby."

"Nobody's ever gonna get me to set paw on that Rainbow Bridge!" Mattie huffed

"Oh, your day will come. You're young now, but the years go by awfully fast. I'm almost 14. My days are numbered. I'll be lucky if I make it to 15. The staff mentioned the kitty doc-doc guessed that Dido was at least 14 and maybe as old as 16, but he just didn't know. And I've heard kitty heaven is a cool place."

Mattie shook her head. "Hey! I don't want to be the only cat in this house. Think positively!"

"The staff loves rescuing and adopting cats, so you won't be alone long. Maybe that'll happen before I go to kitty heaven. I wouldn't mind a cute male around here again like Thomas Jefferson or Rasputin or Kuro. Kuro was especially nice. We can only hope. Meanwhile, remember Dido with happy thoughts and try to finish your dinner every evening. Dido won't be around to finish it for you."

* * * * *

The heartbreak of pet ownership is having to someday say goodbye. Nowadays, with good genes and regular medical care/intervention, humans can live as long as 100 years, or at least into their 80s and even 90s. With good care and a safe life indoors, a cat can live to be at least 15, and maybe even into its 20s.

She was a sleek, black stray with a white patch on her belly and another under her chin plus several blurred white spots on her back, like an angel had dripped white paint on her. She started to hang around our back door in early 2010, hoping for a meal or two. We gladly obliged. And so she hung around through the spring and summer.

We discovered she had been spayed and front paws declawed, so that meant she had belonged to someone, had maybe snuck out of her house, and maybe was greatly missed. We checked with area vets and shelters, watched for newspaper notices about missing cats, and looked at flyers posted on telephone poles and in area stores. Nothing.

We decided to invite her into our house and join our family that included rescued Mattie and Little Debbie (aka Frida Kahlo), adopted-as-a kitten Rasputin, and rescued Kuro (aka Boswell). She readily and even cheerfully walked through the open back door and made herself at home. We named her Dido and sometimes called her Princess Dido because of her fastidiousness and slow, regal walk.

We didn't know how old Dido was and wished she'd had a forehead camera that we could check back to learn about her former life. We also had no idea of how long she had lived outdoors. We figured with no front claws, it hadn't been too long.

What amazed us is that she never tried to dash out the front door when it was open, but sat down and waited patiently nearby for whoever left to return, especially if that person might just happen to bring in fresh catnip from the little garden next to the driveway. And it was like she was thinking, You can't tempt me to go out there. Been there, done that! No fun at all! 

Rest in Peace, sweet Dido.
We loved you so very much and will miss you terribly! We hope to see you again when our turn comes to cross the Rainbow Bridge.