
Today we said goodbye to a member of our family - our cat Melanie.
I was working at a school on July 1, 1998 when someone dumped a mother cat and three orange tabby kittens on the grounds. They were each found one at a time and brought in. I saw a student with a kitten outside my window and knew that was my cat. She came into my office and I fed her some of my lunch. Then she curled up in my lap and fell asleep.
Gone With the Wind had recently been re-released in theaters and since it was Olivia de Havalland's birthday, I named her Melanie.
I took her home and went with my sister to buy cat supplies. When I came back, Mellie had made herself at home on the top of my wing back chair. That first night I watched TV in bed for a while as she slept at the foot of the bed. I remember thinking how nice that was when I turned off the light to go to sleep. Moments later, Mellie pounced on me. That was a long night, but she learned quickly I wasn't a whole lot of fun at night.
And it turned out, Mellie was a smart cat. One night I was in bed and heard a sound in my kitchen. I got up to investigate and found her frozen on the counter. As soon as our eyes met, she quickly jumped down. She knew she wasn't supposed to be there!
Mellie was a wonderful companion. She used to sit on the couch next to me when I watched TV and always slept on the bed with me. When I came home from work, she came running. I would pick her up and she licked my nose. When I was sick, she'd cuddle up next to me. And when I was sad, she'd let me hold her as I cried my eyes out.
We went through so much together: countless job changes; three cars; four homes. She was with me through singleness, marriage, motherhood and divorce. She got over her displeasure of the baby I brought home, and though it took her many years, she finally accepted Marina.
Melanie made us laugh when she found new places to lounge. We found her in the bathroom sink, the clothes hamper, hidden among Marina's stuffed animals and curled in the princess chair. I learned not to leave plastic bags lying around because Mellie would wait until I was sound asleep to play with them.
One thing she didn't tolerate well was when Marina and I went on vacation. Once when we came home I found Mellie sitting on the table (where she knew she wasn't supposed to be). Instead of running and covering up that she'd been there - she hissed at me. But that first night back, she usually curled up right next to my head to make sure I wasn't going anywhere.
Two years ago, Melanie was diagnosed with a hyperactive thyroid. I had to give her a pill twice a day. While she hated getting those pills, she dealt with that daily routine with her usual graceful defiance. I started giving her treats after her pill. Once she understood that, she would stand patiently on my bed waiting for me to give her the dreaded pill. She still made me force it down, but she happily ate the treats afterward.
This past Thursday, I was at home and I heard her meow loudly. I responded with, "What, Mel?" She came down the stairs and stood in front of me. I picked her up and just held her. She fell asleep on my lap, something she hadn't done since the day I met her. She even spent a little time in my backyard which she hasn't done in over a year.
On Friday, I noticed that she seemed a bit stiff after sitting on the couch for a while. By Saturday night it was clear that her hind legs were causing her a great deal of pain. I was bringing her food and water directly to her because it was clearly too painful for her to walk over to it. Sunday I knew that I was measuring the time I had left with Mellie in hours.

This morning I woke up with Mellie sleeping at the foot of the bed. I knew it was the last time it would ever happen. The vet was able to see us fairly early this morning. Marina decided she wanted to come to say goodbye. Before we left, the three of us went through every room in the house sharing memories of the rooms. I took one last picture of Marina and Mellie together.
The vet was incredible today. He listened to the symptoms and told me what I knew in my heart, Melanie was dying. He felt she only had a week or so left. He supported my decision to put an end to her suffering. They also allowed me to hold Mellie as she left us.
She was so docile in my arms - not the sweet and sassy cat I have known all these years. When the vet told me she was gone, a calm came over me that I haven't felt in days. Marina was inconsolable. We sat and held her body for a while. I had just done the most loving thing for her I could think of - I let her go. I hope one day to see her running and chasing moths in heaven.