For those of you who have come to know me via this forum, you will know that I have spoken more often of the two wondrous fur babies I lost last year, Solly and Gonzo.
This post is dedicated to another special fur baby I lost 27 months ago to the day. Cakil Daisy-Mae, or simply Daisy or, as I affectionately called her, Daidy Dollop.
Daisy was a stunning British Blue, whom I acquired when she was two years old. Her owner had to part with her, her daughter Emma, and two other cats as a result of her mother and father having to reside with her through her mother's ill health. Unfortunately, the old lady was also allergic to cats. I purchased Daisy via an advert in the local rag shortly after I was suffering the devastating grief of losing my own mother due to prolonged illness.
I also purchased Daisy's daughter, Emma as a gift for my sister, another cat lover. Daisy came to my home and took up her place alongside three other cats, Tigger, Jerry, and Ebony.
Daisy was a character. She was incredibly affectionate, but ruthless. She loved being petted and touched, but only on her terms, and could be the meanest bundle of fur on four legs. Being a British Blue, she was prone to obesity, and within a few months she had ballooned to a feline of staggering proportions. She spent most of her time indoors, and when she did go outside it was only to explore the garden. She never went far. She had an endearing habit of picking up anything she found on the floor, holding the object in her teeth as if she were holding a kitten by its scruff then walking round emitting the most weird sound I can only describe as a cross between a meow and a yelp. She would regularly reduce me to fits of giggles with her cookie antics. If she was being petted and I walked away from her, she would hit me with her paw. That was her way of giving me a dressing down, telling me how dare I walk away from her and hey, she wanted more strokes and cuddles. She loathed having her claws cut, being groomed, and going to the vet. On one occasion, she scratched the vet from the tip of her index finger up to her elbow. The vet quipped that I had a tiger cub for a pet, not a British Blue cat. Her adorable face belied her ferocious nature.
Despite her unpredictable nature, Daisy stayed with me. When I found Gonzo as a stray, she took an instant dislike to him, hissing and spitting whenever he came near. She had never hit it off with the other cats in the household either. Gonzo took advantage of Queen Daisy's animosity towards him, and picked on her mercilessly. He would lie in wait and jump on her back, biting the nape of her neck. He would chase her although there wasn't any competition. He was far quicker on his feet as he could spend many hours outdoors before depleting his abundant energy. Daisy was a feline whose idea of exercise meant stuffing her face with as much food as possible. I named them the gruesome twosome.
Over the months, Daisy and Gonzo developed an understanding, although Mr Mischief Gonzo still had his digs at her. I lost Tigger, Jerry, and Ebony, and bought Solly not long after Ebony died in September 2003. Solly loved Daisy and Gonzo. He was wary of Daisy due to her feisty disposition. She would lie on his back, or next to him on his bed. The only time she would back off was when she tried to nab one of his treats. He would growl and show her who was boss. He did the same to Gonzo. However, the three of them had a wonderful relationship. It was a pleasure and a privilege to be part of their lives.
I don't wish to relive the days before Daisy's death, as it still pains me to think about it. All I will say is she developed thyroid problems and shrank from a whopping cat who resembled Garfield in size, to a furbag of skin and bone. She had been misdiagnosed by one vet and, when the correct diagnosis was given, it was too late. Eventually, I had to do what I had to do. I was not with her completely at the end. I took her to the vet with a friend and sobbed all the way there. I was in bits while waiting for the vet to do the necessary and, when the time came, I could not bear to go into the little room with her. I said farewell to her and told her I loved her and always would. I did actually go in after she had been put under. I caught the last 10 seconds or so of her life. The pain was unbearable; when I think about it, the pain still is.
I had Daisy cremated and her ashes are in a beautiful casket with a pink flower and a wonderful brass plaque. She was 14 years, 5 months and 4 days old when she passed. I loved Daisy so much, I always will. She had so many wonderful quirks, so much love inside her. She was a terror at times, but oh, what a terror!
Daisy, you were, are, and always will be a cat of a thousand moods. I love you, my beautiful girl. Forever!
CAKIL DAISY-MAE –
14th May 1998-18th October 2012
“Death ends a life, not a relationship.” – Jack LemmonSolly, Gonzo, Daisy-Mae, Ebony, Jerry, Tigger, Bonnie, Suzy, Cleo, Spike, Sooty, and Tibby – dazzling lights that will never fade. Adored, cherished, I was privileged to know you all. Until we meet again, my beautiful babies. Bowls of love and cuddles, your ever-loving, devoted Mummy xxxxxxxxxx