Smokey

Today's post has nothing about Izzy or Therapy Dogs but it is about a cat who was an unofficial therapy cat.

This is long (but not near as long as it could be). I think it is worth a read though.

I got a call today from my brother’s ex-girlfriend (who I really had hoped would be my sister-in-law, but it didn’t work out). She let me know that Smokey, a little cat she had given a home to after my brother, Dar, died, was critically ill and she had an appointment to have her euthanized at 6:00 pm today.

It brought everything back for me. Losing my dad, having to have my mom committed to a care home, my brother dying, bringing my mom and dad’s dog and Dar’s cat, Smokey home with us. It was the worst time I have experienced in my life. Grief is funny. You think you have processed it and then bam, a phone call and everything comes rushing back.

But this post is in memory of Smokey and my brother’s love for her and for Alexa who has loved her the last 12 years. Writing is one of the things I do to cope, so here goes.

My brother was both mentally ill and an addict. He was in and out of rehab and jail his whole life. He was so much more though. He was a self-taught artist and his paintings were incredible. He was a musician and was self-taught on guitar. He played guitar to make money and he was really good. He was never violent and never hurt anyone but himself. He would help anyone who needed it when he was able and he loved animals. I remember him crying when he caught a lizard and its tail came off and another time, he helped a little orphaned kitten he found.

Dar would go to rehab, get off drugs for awhile but always go back to them. At one point, he had stayed off drugs for a year and that was the longest he had been off them. He lived in a half-way house for recovering addicts in California. There were a lot of feral cats in the area and he decided to try and friend a shy, gray cat who was always visiting their backyard. It took months but he won her over and brought her into his room. He named her Smokey and got her spayed and vaccinated. That cat was his whole world and gave him a reason to stay straight. Every time I talked with Dar, most of the conversation was about Smokey. He said Smokey was his whole reason for living. It was the first time he didn’t ask me for anything for himself, he just wanted things for Smokey.

After my dad died, Dar decided to move to Redmond to live with my mom. He brought Smokey with him from California. For a while, all was good and he was actually a help with my mom. Sadly, he stopped taking his meds and his paranoia and delusions returned. Then the drug use resumed. He had been straight for 2 years thanks to Smokey but that just wasn’t enough. He was in jail (I will keep this short as my mom could be a book) and things hit a crisis point with my mom and her dementia. The Sheriff and Deschutes County Senior Services came to get her out of her home and in for an assessment. Dave and I went in and got my mom and dad’s dog, Sara and Smokey. Smokey was so scared.

We brought them home. Sara was elderly and in poor health from starvation (another story but believe me I had been trying since my dad died to get me mom help and get Sara out). We had her for a year though and I think she was happy. I did not know what to do with Smokey. I did not think Dar could care for her but she was his and so important to him. So, I just loved her and cared for her. Then I got a call from a Deschutes County Sheriff that Dar had died about 6 months later. He had died of exposure. He was sleeping in a box in Redmond behind a store. He had refused to go into a shelter after he got out of jail because he wouldn’t be able to have Smokey there.

My brother Warren and his girlfriend, Alexa came up. Alexa met Smokey and asked if she could give Smokey a home. I was so relieved because I couldn’t just give her to someone I didn’t know. But I was 3 cats over my 2-cat limit already.

After Alexa and my brother broke up, she kept Smokey. We kept in touch. Smokey was so loved. She let me know how much Smokey helped her. That Smokey knew when she was sad and would come to her. That Smokey was always there for her. Alexa lost her sister last year. She told me about how Smokey had helped her cope with the loss. She told me she was so appreciative that I had let her have Smokey.

That little feral cat helped two people in huge ways and in turn was loved by two people. She was such a lucky cat and so were the two people she trusted and gave her love to.

It is 6:46. Smokey has passed. I truly believe that she is with Dar again.

Thank you, Alexa, for loving and caring for Smokey for 12 years.

RIP Smokey.