After 17 years of a life well-lived, we said goodbye to our kitty Ricki on Friday. I had originally rescued her in 2001; at that time she was already 5 years old, and the rescue group told me they’d picked her up in an alley behind a seafood restaurant in Long Beach, where she’d been living off scraps the workers would leave out for her. It had taken them over a year to find her a home, and she found that home with me.
The first few months I had Ricki, I barely saw her. She’d hide all day, and the only proof I had that she didn’t leave the premises was her food bowl was empty each morning. She was very skiddish, she was spooked by any noise, and she did not want to be held – ever. I had even gone back to the man I’d adopted her from, worried that she didn’t like me and I wasn’t a good fit for her. He advised me to be patient (not a virtue of mine), be gentle (also not my biggest strength) and to just try talking to her while I was in the house so she’d get used to hearing my voice and not be startled by it.
His advice worked. I would come home from work and just start talking a little bit. I’d open up a bag of cat treats or wet food and place it just within poking reach of the furniture or shelf she’d be hiding under. I started to increase the distance, and she’d slither out, look at me, gulp it down and retreat. But after a month or so, one night she decided to venture out — and she stayed. From that point on, she became the most loyal and devoted cat I could’ve ever imagined. And of course, when Ricki + I moved in with Ed + Molly, we all became a happy family in 2006.
Ricki lived with us for 13 years. She’s lived with us in 7 different places. During that time, she shared a home with two other cats … and a baby. We were amazed at how tolerant she was of Ruby … she never showed any resentment towards her and she often hung out right by her side when she was an infant, keeping watch. She stayed calm when her tail was pulled, her fur was grabbed or chubby cheeks were curiously crammed next to her face.
Almost a year ago, our trusty veterinarian, Dr. Toledo (who has seen us through three cats and performed not one — but two! — knee surgeries for Ricki) let us know that she was suffering from kidney and thyroid disease. He warned us that we could make her comfortable, but these were things that just could not be cured. She held on awhile, but this past Wednesday she had a kidney infection that was too brutal to beat. We decided after all this time, we now had the opportunity to let her go in peace.
I am grateful that we could all go and say one last goodbye to Ricki as a family before we let her go. It’s a strange feeling to return to a house with no purring in it. But no matter how sad we may be, we know we’ll always have our wonderful memories with her. RIP, Sweet Ricki.
