COLIN MACLEAN: Sweet, hateful little creature

We recently lost a member of our family: our 15-year-old cat, Annie.

Annie and I had a complicated relationship. One built more on tolerance than love.

Though, in my defence, Annie did nothing to endear herself to anyone, ever.

We brought her into our home while we were living in St. John’s. My partner’s sister had adopted Annie from the local Newfoundland Humane Society a few weeks earlier. The idea had been to give her cat a companion. Instead, they immediately hated each other and fought constantly to the point where the original cat stopped eating.

We had recently lost a cat and the girls didn’t want to return Annie to the shelter, so she moved in with us.

I wasn’t opposed to the idea. At least, that’s what I thought until I started living with Annie.

For the next 14 or so years, Annie was a ghostly presence in our home. You knew she was there, but you didn’t see her much.

We’d added a second, male, feline to our lives about six months after we acquired Annie. It was not the wisest decision we ever made, but you live and learn. While they initially got along well when he was a kitten, as he grew up, they came to despise each other.

Peace returned only when they learned to ignore each other. But it was tenuous, and border skirmishes happened occasionally.

I wish I could have written a nice little eulogy for a loving little animal friend. But it would be a lie. And yet, in the end, I miss her — and I’m sad she’s gone.

Annie also didn’t like being touched. Which was unfortunate because she was a cute little thing. Small, mostly white, with black and brown stripes. But if you tried to pick her up, she would fight you.

Even petting was off the table. The most you could get was a few seconds before the serious claws came out. My many attempts to play with her usually, eventually, ended in bloodshed.

When we had guests, Annie would hide. On the rare occasion she came to investigate interlopers in her domain, we would warn them not to touch her. Most heeded the warning; some didn’t and paid the price.

Annie also had a penchant for peeing on any fabric left on the floor. So, we’ve gone out of our way all these years to avoid leaving her any tempting targets.

We changed our lives to revolve around a seven-ish pound cat’s neuroses.

So that’s how things stayed for many years. Annie and I came to an understanding, tolerating each other and staying out of each other’s way.

It wasn’t until about two years ago that something started to change, ever so slightly.

Maybe it was her old age or maybe we’d just worn her down over the years, but Annie seemed to warm up to us.

At night, she would sit on my nightstand beside the bed and poke me in the face until I started petting her. Let me tell you, if you’ve never been the unsuspecting victim of a stealthy cat poking you in the eye while you’re half asleep — it’s not pleasant. But, hey, it was progress of a sort.

She would manipulate our dog into getting out of her little doggy bed next to my work desk so she could steal it and be close to me in comfort. Our dog, a 15-pound cairn terrier, knew not to tangle with Annie.

She even deigned to start sitting on or near us, sometimes sleeping on the foot of our bed at night.

We couldn’t believe it. It was like having a whole different cat.

Sadly, it didn’t last. Annie’s health started going downhill fast a few weeks ago. After various tests and speaking with our veterinarian, we made the decision that her time had come.

Anyone who has ever had to make that decision and go through that process knows what it’s like. And if you have not, nothing I can write will make you understand it.

We stayed with her until the end.

I cried. Despite it all, I cried over that sweet, hateful little creature.

I wish I could have written a nice little eulogy for a loving little animal friend. But it would be a lie.

And yet, in the end, I miss her — and I’m sad she’s gone.

Colin MacLean is the assistant managing editor at the Journal Pioneer in Summerside. He can be reached at cmaclean@postmedia.com and followed on X @JournalPMacLean.