The kitten in the beanie

Simon · 8th July 2005, 17:36

This is a continuation of stories about my kitten, Chanel, told in the Post Your Pet thread starting with this post.

This the most personal post I've ever made to NZGames.

For the obvious reason I've been frayed around the edges for the past few days, and Chanel's death has really hit me hard... forgive me if I ramble, but I want to share my feelings before they scar over. I'm only home briefly again today so I want to finish what I said earlier.

I've grown up with pets, and whatever house I've been in has always had a certain element of "zoo" about it. Family pets have always been a part of my life. But Chanel is the first pet who has been bonded to ME. She was MY little kitty. I was HER human. I finally realised what other pet people had meant when they said that there was something "special" with one particular pet, and special is how she made me feel. Kelly always used to tease me when she found us playing outside or watched me fussing over her in the kitchen, saying I had a "Daddy's girl". Chanel would always come running whenever I called, she'd sleep on top of me at night, and she would start purring at the sight of me if I came near her. Now that I think about it, I would run whenever I heard her call out to me, I guess I rolled over on her in bed a couple of times (she didn't seem to mind) and I would have purred at the sight of her if I could.

As you can imagine, I'd planned that this week would be a very happy week, and it just hasn't worked out that way. Just let me get this off my chest.

When Kelly and I first started seriously giving thought to having a baby, one thing that I expressed concern about was a lack of a "support network" for us over here in Oz. I was worried about having noone to prepare me for the tasks and pressure involved with raising a baby -- it's not like I could just turn to my parents or grandparents (all deceased) and ask "how the... what the... when do I..." questions. Kelly and I eventually decided to give it a try in spite of my misgivings, and looking back through the calendar I know that our baby was conceived in the first week of October 2004. We of course did not find that out for some time, and to be honest I was pretty busy anyway: that very week, on the evening of 7 October, an almost newborn kitten was discovered abandoned outside our house. We never established how it got there. Kelly found it sitting at the side of the road as she arrived home from work, and brought the little thing inside to our bedroom where I was crashed out. I'd pulled an all-nighter for a work project the previous night and was having a bit of a nap. Kelly came in, said "I've found a kitten" and placed it down in what eventually became one of Chanel's favourite spots -- on the bed with me -- and my first words were "Oh my god, it's not a kitten, it's just a baby". The kitten was tiny, with eyes barely able to open, no teeth, and ears still flat to its head. I jumped up and we raced the kitten off to the vet, and with it being a cool evening and us driving a Jeep with (at the time) no roof, Kelly had to stuff the kitten down inside her jumper under a thick jacket to keep the shivering little thing warm. As a result of this and a trip home in the same manner, kitten smelled like Kelly's perfume for quite a while thereafter. You can probably guess the perfume.

The vet answered the obvious question ("it" was a "she") and then asked us the next-most-obvious question of "are you going to keep her?" and I already knew we were. I'd fallen in love with her the moment I saw her. We then got a crash course in hand-rearing a newborn kitten, and after we returned home (armed with a bag of feline baby formula, a syringe, and a little baby-bottle with a kitten-sized rubber nipple) the next couple of weeks became a blur of mixing and heating baby formula, bottle feedings, teaching Chanel how and when to go to the toilet (she was so young she hadn't been trained by a mother cat), and just generally raising her. My work timetable usually had me up late at night, so the 2-hourly nighttime feedings and cleaning up of ensuing toilet mess fell to me (using baby wipes, now that I think about it). Most nights ended up with me walking around the house with Chanel in my hand wrapped in a woollen beanie, holding her against my heart and gently jiggling her until body heat and heartbeat and motion put her to sleep. Once she was asleep I could put her down in a big cardboard box next to my side of the bed -- big fluffy towel and hot-water bottle included of course. If she started squeaking in a little kitten voice during the night, that meant it was time to get up, pick her out of the box, and do it all over again.

How funny that only days before she arrived on our doorstep I'd been worried about having noone to prepare me for the tasks and pressure involved with raising a baby.

Chanel grew up, slowly. As we all know, she was a tiny kitten and never grew big at all. Things went pretty well, though, and she was the picture of feline cuteness. We went through another parenting stage together as her teeth came in, and somehow we successfully weaned her off milk and on to solid food; because of her early malnutrition, it was vital that we work out some way of getting kilojoules into her. Kelly and I tried every food and combination of foods -- with marginal success -- until one day we discovered that she loved chicken. Chanel would perform joyful little contortions at our feet as Kelly and I pulled chicken into small pieces on the kitchen bench before placing it in her bowl, wriggling around in what we came to call "the Chicken Dance". Because, I suppose, of the fact that she had been hand-reared, eating was a bonding ritual for her; she never liked to eat alone, and I soon found that the best way to get her to eat well was to stand in the kitchen and talk to her while she ate, speaking in the soft voice in which I'd talked while bottle-feeding her. With Manuel's unexpected help she learned how to clean herself and go to the toilet like a grownup. She grew more mobile and independent, learning how to climb stairs, jump up on to and down from the bed, and venturing outside for the first time. In the first week of December something went very wrong, and she fell very ill. I remember the day I posted about it here in the Post Your Pet thread -- I was caught up in the city, and Kelly had to pick Chanel up from the vet and take her home after the vet told her that nothing more could be done. After the longest bus-ride of my life I sprinted, and I mean sprinted, from the bus stop to our house terrified that she was going to die before I could get there. I learned the terror of being unable to help someone who relies on you for everything. Thankfully, as we all know, Chanel survived and bounced back.

Chanel was a talkative little thing, announcing her arrival in a room or on to the bed with a high-pitched "brrrt?". She would happily chirp her way around the house, rarely ever using a genuine cat's meow. When she did, it was always directed at me; if she had playfully but over-ambitiously climbed to a position from which she could then not descend, or if I had committed the almost unforgiveable sin of allowing a door to be closed between us, she would wail in a little kitten voice and wait for me to come running. If in earshot, Kelly would follow with an English translation in a voice of amusement: "Daddy!"

Chanel was always at her most relaxed, slowly blinking her light-brown eyes and purring, when I cradled her in my arms and walked around with her held against my chest as I had when she was a baby. Kelly used to laugh when she heard me quietly singing "Brown Eyed Girl" to Chanel as we walked. I didn't feel silly.

Of course by late December Kelly's pregnancy was becoming obvious. Strangely enough, our male cats Hobbes and Manuel seemed a bit iffy about the whole affair. They both became a little bit stand-offish with Kelly, and were conspicuously reluctant to sit on her growing and eventually very active belly. Chanel, on the other hand, developed a strange affection for Kelly and the growing baby. In bed at night, Chanel would walk up my body and chirp "brrrt?" in my face as if asking for permission, then step over to sit on Kelly's abdomen. Chanel was the only one of the three cats who would happily sit on The Belly, and she would do so purring for hours. As baby grew and became active, Chanel would sometimes play with him. Baby would move; Chanel would see the movement, her eyes would grow wide, and she would pounce and bat at the protruding foot or elbow. Baby would sometimes prod back, setting off another round (if Kelly could stand it, that is). I look back through my photos of those months, through all the posed shots we set up as a record of the baby's development, and somehow Chanel appears in almost all of them. At Kelly's feet, in the background, always jumping into frame just as the shutter closed. She just... appeared whenever baby photos were being taken.

As we started setting up a "baby's room", Chanel put herself in the middle of it and made us work around her. When we bought new and, to me, vaguely scary articles of baby furniture, Chanel would claim them. The moment we acquired a cot and mattress, Chanel decided that it was where she would sleep during the afternoons. The moment we bought a big chest-type box for blankets and baby clothing, Chanel decided that it would be a great place to sit and royally survey the outside world through the window. Now that I think about it, I don't think Kelly and I have ever referred to the baby box as anything other than "Chanel's Throne". Hobbes and Manuel never seemed in the slightest bit interested in the new furniture or the room itself, but Chanel claimed it all as her personal property and played in the room almost every night. I bought Kelly a thick fluffy dressing-gown for when she went in to hospital; Chanel discovered it hanging behind the door, decided it was obviously hers, and climbed up and down it for fun, partially shredding it and leaving claw marks and stray threads sticking out everywhere. I couldn't be mad at her. Somehow she turned the unfamiliar baby's room into a fun family place. I often told Kelly that Chanel was baby's good luck charm.

Chanel had never looked happier or healthier as she did during the past few months, nor acted like Daddy's Girl more affectionately, nor played more enthusiastically... jumping out at me from behind door frames, standing on her hind legs and waving her front paws in the air... running past me at full speed down the hallway for no other reason than to hear me yell "JESUS CHANEL YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK"... arching her back with fur on end, scuttling sideways at me through the living room trying to look intimidating (a sight to behold) and fleeing in mock terror as I joined in the game and ran after her... jumping at me and climbing up my body to sit on my shoulder, tail wrapped around my neck.

The last photograph I posted of her, outside in the grass, looking full of life, was taken just last week.

Baby's due date came and went, so it was almost time.

Kelly started feeling strong contractions -- not regular, but different -- last Saturday. At the same time, Chanel started looking a bit unhappy; nothing scary, just... not herself. Kelly's contractions really started kicking in on Sunday, and Chanel started looking quite unwell. She started making a strange coughing noise every now and then, and stopped playing. She would come to me to be picked up but would not jump or climb. When I held her she would purr, but not happily. It was a "please look after me" rattle rather than the blissed-out buzz I knew. On Monday, when Kelly looked me in the eye and said "I think it's started" Chanel looked worse than ever.

I'm going to skim the next couple of days because I'm losing it now. I took Chanel to the vet, had her checked over with no real hint as to what was wrong with her, and took her home with some antibiotics. I tried to pamper her as best I could and hoped that the antibiotics would help, then took Kelly to the hospital. I stayed with Kelly through her labour and the baby's birth then went straight home to see Chanel. She looked bad.

I took little Chanel back to the vet wrapped in an unwashed t-shirt of mine, hoping that my smell would comfort her while I was away. I explained to the vet that I had to go to the hospital and why, and asked the staff to look after her and do whatever they could while I went to see Kelly and my new son. We were all exhausted, and the staff at the maternity ward let me sleep on the floor in Kelly's room with the baby. Baby woke us in the morning to start his first day in the world, and my phone rang. It was the vet, and he was ringing to tell me that Chanel had died early that morning, for no clearly identifiable reason. She'd just... died.

After Kelly helped me up, I left the hospital in a daze of tears and went to the vet to seek explanations (there really weren't any), and to take my little girl home. Once we arrived I lay her down on the floor where she had learned to play, partially wrapped in the t-shirt in which I'd left her, so Hobbes and Manuel could see her and smell her and hopefully understand that she would not be with us any more. They each came to Chanel as she lay there then ran from the house, eyes wide, tails down, and bellies close to the ground. I picked Chanel up and for the last time held her little body close to my chest and walked from room to room, quietly crying and trying to sing to her as I had always done, picturing her eyes open instead of closed and her body vibrating happily instead of still. And now I honestly cannot think or write of this any more.

Chanel arrived in my life shivering and helpless just as my baby was conceived. She taught me to care for an infant just as I was most concerned about not knowing how, or if I was even ready to do so, then threw me in the deep end of the terrible responsibility of having someone you love depend on you utterly for everything. Chanel claimed as her own every single thing we bought for baby, and turned a cold room full of scary unfamiliar things into a warm room of love and fun. Then, just as my baby arrived in the world, she was gone.

I'm not sure if there's any message or meaning in this anywhere, but when I think about her I cry.

Here are some photos I've never posted before.

Chanel only days after she arrived on my doorstep, on a towel with syringe ready for a feeding attempt.

Kelly snapped this pic of me and "Daddy's girl" asleep in bed.

Asleep in baby's cot just after we put a mattress and blankets in it for the first time.

The two of us having a moment in the garden.

This post has taken me over 24 hours to write, one sentence at a time.

Deff · 8th July 2005, 17:42

All I can say is wow, and losing anything one or thing is always hard.

[BT]Monza · 8th July 2005, 18:06

nostrom0 · 8th July 2005, 18:11

Wow, that's a very sad story. All the best to ya.

BloodDonor · 8th July 2005, 18:12

awwwww

Disinformation · 8th July 2005, 18:12

Sorry for you loss

LordP · 8th July 2005, 18:14

Dude...

g ø f u r b ø y · 8th July 2005, 18:16

Well told.

That was so moving and sad

.

Native · 8th July 2005, 18:18

Quote:

Originally posted by LordP
Dude...

No a hellua move one can say.

kokain · 8th July 2005, 18:21

Very moving, so sorry for your loss

Mabd · 8th July 2005, 18:24

Thanks Simon. I'd like to tell you about my Sulla but I can't, and you've written it anyway, though with different players.

Sanguinius_nz · 8th July 2005, 18:24

All I can say is that you have my deepest sympathies. I have gone through the same thing with my dog samson who had to be put to sleep due to cancer over a year ago one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through in my life.

Blam · 8th July 2005, 18:42

Its hard when the best things in our lives are taken away, I feel for you as have others had there beloved pets pass. As a pet owner who has lost as well.

reac · 8th July 2005, 19:08

Quote:

Originally posted by LordP
Dude...

Just what I was going to say...

flic · 8th July 2005, 19:09

Chanel came into your life to teach you how to be a dad

and she showed you that you'll make an excellent one.

Sometimes it's not for us to know why these things happen, only to realise that your life is infinitely more blessed because she was in it.

Jonas Undrawing · 8th July 2005, 19:10

Wow.
What an awkward happy / sad story. I think it's great you have realised how important she was towards showing you about being a father. I too have lost a cat who I hand-raised. Her name was "She" (mainly because the first thing I would say when I came home was "Where is she?"). Her birth and death were complicated and troublesome. I know how hard it is to see an animal you love that is in pain..

Umberlee · 8th July 2005, 20:25

Simon, I'm so sorry to hear of your loss.

Your post has moved me to tears, I can't begin to imagine how you feel right now. I hope that one day your pain will pass and you can think about the happy times you had with Chanel and smile, her time with you was a very special gift

yaksman · 8th July 2005, 20:26

Damn that cuts me up reading it. I've never really felt truely sadened when someone close to me passes away but I hate it when animals do. Just a trait I posess. Sorry to hear of your loss Simon.

untouchable · 8th July 2005, 20:33

So sad

RIP Chanel.

verve_rat · 8th July 2005, 20:37

Just...

dylan · 8th July 2005, 21:57

That's really well said dude. It's incredibly sad and moving and yet I can't help think that you gave her an amazing 9 months that she very nearly didn't have.

silva^ · 8th July 2005, 22:12

Quote:

Originally posted by flic
Chanel came into your life to teach you how to be a dad

and she showed you that you'll make an excellent one.

Sometimes it's not for us to know why these things happen, only to realise that your life is infinitely more blessed because she was in it.

Agreed.

eff tee · 8th July 2005, 22:38

Ooh a bit teary here.

That little lady definitely accomplished what she was put on the earth for.
Just remember that you gave her just as great a life as she gave you. And one day you'll be able to think of her and want to smile, instead of cry. Look forward to that.

And you'll be a great Dad, you'll see.

Jenza · 8th July 2005, 23:28

After reading your post simon I bailed my eyes out for 20 minutes. I still don't know why I did, guess I had a shitload of bottled emotion :/

I have never experienced anything like this before, I still quite confused about it. Only reasoning I can think of is that I've had a lot fo funerals of grandparents lately where I've always tried to lock it in.

Thanks for posting this, serously.

Trigger · 8th July 2005, 23:30

You upgraded from a kitten to a baby.

Spooky coincidence with the time of arrival / departure of your kitten. Good to see it taught you many things and it seems it kept you very lovely company in the meantime.

Nice story.

Evoke · 9th July 2005, 00:05

I went to dictionary.com to find a word to describe my feelings on all of this, but my search proved fruitless. Just sitting here, too scared to move in case a miracle passes by.

thanks for writing this.

riven · 9th July 2005, 00:14

Quote:

Originally posted by flic
Chanel came into your life to teach you how to be a dad

and she showed you that you'll make an excellent one.

Sometimes it's not for us to know why these things happen, only to realise that your life is infinitely more blessed because she was in it.

Flic says it all, Chanel was exactly what you needed her to be and you will always love her for it.
i'm happy for you to have had that and that she was so very loved =)

when he is old enough i hope Marshall gets to grow up with a pet to love too.

Redneck · 9th July 2005, 00:18

Talk about lumps in your throat.

I'm so sorry for your loss Simon... this sounds like it'll be one of those experiences you look back on decades away thinking of the moments that defined your life.

It's a very sad thing, but for some reason it also makes me feels so privileged just to be alive and on this earth. Thanks Si.

MadMax · 9th July 2005, 00:20

i often wondered how the little thing got on ... very sad

Ksenia · 9th July 2005, 00:57

I'm tearing through a box of tissue here.

So very sad yet uplifting as well, as you both brought so much happiness to each other in those 9 months.

BathTub · 9th July 2005, 01:03

Dang.

Ashley · 9th July 2005, 01:17

I don't usually get brought to tears over something like this but for some reason I have been. Simon - what flic said is one of the reasons its so emotional, Chanel was there to teach you to be a father, and what a bloody good job you have done.

Thanks.

catlover · 9th July 2005, 01:21

I too had my little kitty in the original thread of photos of pets. She was 9 months old when I last saw her the week before Christmas. I rang the all vets nearby and outside our area and the SPCA many times. I also tried the council and every agency that takes unloved or abandoned cats.
I never found her so her fate is unknown but I hope she's alright wherever she is.
My sympathies.

Chrono · 9th July 2005, 01:37

Damn bro, I really feel for you.. I'm pretty speechless right now.

?>Superman · 9th July 2005, 04:22

Rough, these things happen though.

Still very saddening, especially when it's such an important part of your life. Hope your doin okay bud.

OY636 · 9th July 2005, 08:00

reincarnation,

but damn lump in the throat.

sv · 9th July 2005, 08:59

Thats a beautiful eulogy. I think theres a lot of meaning there - in part thats why the story is so touching.

We mourn a loss by cherishing the life, which is what you've done in your post. What a lovely experience you had together. Thanks for sharing it.

Maniak · 9th July 2005, 09:43

Damn, it's harsh loosing someone or a pet that you care about so much. Beautifully written. Take heart in looking after Marshall and Kelly.

Toksin · 9th July 2005, 10:18

Thank you, Simon.

Adunaphel · 9th July 2005, 10:39

Wow... that was amazing you shared that. Cheers Si. .. That was an inspiration.

8th July 2005, 17:36	#1
Simon SHG	The kitten in the beanie This is a continuation of stories about my kitten, Chanel, told in the Post Your Pet thread starting with this post. This the most personal post I've ever made to NZGames. For the obvious reason I've been frayed around the edges for the past few days, and Chanel's death has really hit me hard... forgive me if I ramble, but I want to share my feelings before they scar over. I'm only home briefly again today so I want to finish what I said earlier. I've grown up with pets, and whatever house I've been in has always had a certain element of "zoo" about it. Family pets have always been a part of my life. But Chanel is the first pet who has been bonded to ME. She was MY little kitty. I was HER human. I finally realised what other pet people had meant when they said that there was something "special" with one particular pet, and special is how she made me feel. Kelly always used to tease me when she found us playing outside or watched me fussing over her in the kitchen, saying I had a "Daddy's girl". Chanel would always come running whenever I called, she'd sleep on top of me at night, and she would start purring at the sight of me if I came near her. Now that I think about it, I would run whenever I heard her call out to me, I guess I rolled over on her in bed a couple of times (she didn't seem to mind) and I would have purred at the sight of her if I could. As you can imagine, I'd planned that this week would be a very happy week, and it just hasn't worked out that way. Just let me get this off my chest. When Kelly and I first started seriously giving thought to having a baby, one thing that I expressed concern about was a lack of a "support network" for us over here in Oz. I was worried about having noone to prepare me for the tasks and pressure involved with raising a baby -- it's not like I could just turn to my parents or grandparents (all deceased) and ask "how the... what the... when do I..." questions. Kelly and I eventually decided to give it a try in spite of my misgivings, and looking back through the calendar I know that our baby was conceived in the first week of October 2004. We of course did not find that out for some time, and to be honest I was pretty busy anyway: that very week, on the evening of 7 October, an almost newborn kitten was discovered abandoned outside our house. We never established how it got there. Kelly found it sitting at the side of the road as she arrived home from work, and brought the little thing inside to our bedroom where I was crashed out. I'd pulled an all-nighter for a work project the previous night and was having a bit of a nap. Kelly came in, said "I've found a kitten" and placed it down in what eventually became one of Chanel's favourite spots -- on the bed with me -- and my first words were "Oh my god, it's not a kitten, it's just a baby". The kitten was tiny, with eyes barely able to open, no teeth, and ears still flat to its head. I jumped up and we raced the kitten off to the vet, and with it being a cool evening and us driving a Jeep with (at the time) no roof, Kelly had to stuff the kitten down inside her jumper under a thick jacket to keep the shivering little thing warm. As a result of this and a trip home in the same manner, kitten smelled like Kelly's perfume for quite a while thereafter. You can probably guess the perfume. The vet answered the obvious question ("it" was a "she") and then asked us the next-most-obvious question of "are you going to keep her?" and I already knew we were. I'd fallen in love with her the moment I saw her. We then got a crash course in hand-rearing a newborn kitten, and after we returned home (armed with a bag of feline baby formula, a syringe, and a little baby-bottle with a kitten-sized rubber nipple) the next couple of weeks became a blur of mixing and heating baby formula, bottle feedings, teaching Chanel how and when to go to the toilet (she was so young she hadn't been trained by a mother cat), and just generally raising her. My work timetable usually had me up late at night, so the 2-hourly nighttime feedings and cleaning up of ensuing toilet mess fell to me (using baby wipes, now that I think about it). Most nights ended up with me walking around the house with Chanel in my hand wrapped in a woollen beanie, holding her against my heart and gently jiggling her until body heat and heartbeat and motion put her to sleep. Once she was asleep I could put her down in a big cardboard box next to my side of the bed -- big fluffy towel and hot-water bottle included of course. If she started squeaking in a little kitten voice during the night, that meant it was time to get up, pick her out of the box, and do it all over again. How funny that only days before she arrived on our doorstep I'd been worried about having noone to prepare me for the tasks and pressure involved with raising a baby. Chanel grew up, slowly. As we all know, she was a tiny kitten and never grew big at all. Things went pretty well, though, and she was the picture of feline cuteness. We went through another parenting stage together as her teeth came in, and somehow we successfully weaned her off milk and on to solid food; because of her early malnutrition, it was vital that we work out some way of getting kilojoules into her. Kelly and I tried every food and combination of foods -- with marginal success -- until one day we discovered that she loved chicken. Chanel would perform joyful little contortions at our feet as Kelly and I pulled chicken into small pieces on the kitchen bench before placing it in her bowl, wriggling around in what we came to call "the Chicken Dance". Because, I suppose, of the fact that she had been hand-reared, eating was a bonding ritual for her; she never liked to eat alone, and I soon found that the best way to get her to eat well was to stand in the kitchen and talk to her while she ate, speaking in the soft voice in which I'd talked while bottle-feeding her. With Manuel's unexpected help she learned how to clean herself and go to the toilet like a grownup. She grew more mobile and independent, learning how to climb stairs, jump up on to and down from the bed, and venturing outside for the first time. In the first week of December something went very wrong, and she fell very ill. I remember the day I posted about it here in the Post Your Pet thread -- I was caught up in the city, and Kelly had to pick Chanel up from the vet and take her home after the vet told her that nothing more could be done. After the longest bus-ride of my life I sprinted, and I mean sprinted, from the bus stop to our house terrified that she was going to die before I could get there. I learned the terror of being unable to help someone who relies on you for everything. Thankfully, as we all know, Chanel survived and bounced back. Chanel was a talkative little thing, announcing her arrival in a room or on to the bed with a high-pitched "brrrt?". She would happily chirp her way around the house, rarely ever using a genuine cat's meow. When she did, it was always directed at me; if she had playfully but over-ambitiously climbed to a position from which she could then not descend, or if I had committed the almost unforgiveable sin of allowing a door to be closed between us, she would wail in a little kitten voice and wait for me to come running. If in earshot, Kelly would follow with an English translation in a voice of amusement: "Daddy!" Chanel was always at her most relaxed, slowly blinking her light-brown eyes and purring, when I cradled her in my arms and walked around with her held against my chest as I had when she was a baby. Kelly used to laugh when she heard me quietly singing "Brown Eyed Girl" to Chanel as we walked. I didn't feel silly. Of course by late December Kelly's pregnancy was becoming obvious. Strangely enough, our male cats Hobbes and Manuel seemed a bit iffy about the whole affair. They both became a little bit stand-offish with Kelly, and were conspicuously reluctant to sit on her growing and eventually very active belly. Chanel, on the other hand, developed a strange affection for Kelly and the growing baby. In bed at night, Chanel would walk up my body and chirp "brrrt?" in my face as if asking for permission, then step over to sit on Kelly's abdomen. Chanel was the only one of the three cats who would happily sit on The Belly, and she would do so purring for hours. As baby grew and became active, Chanel would sometimes play with him. Baby would move; Chanel would see the movement, her eyes would grow wide, and she would pounce and bat at the protruding foot or elbow. Baby would sometimes prod back, setting off another round (if Kelly could stand it, that is). I look back through my photos of those months, through all the posed shots we set up as a record of the baby's development, and somehow Chanel appears in almost all of them. At Kelly's feet, in the background, always jumping into frame just as the shutter closed. She just... appeared whenever baby photos were being taken. As we started setting up a "baby's room", Chanel put herself in the middle of it and made us work around her. When we bought new and, to me, vaguely scary articles of baby furniture, Chanel would claim them. The moment we acquired a cot and mattress, Chanel decided that it was where she would sleep during the afternoons. The moment we bought a big chest-type box for blankets and baby clothing, Chanel decided that it would be a great place to sit and royally survey the outside world through the window. Now that I think about it, I don't think Kelly and I have ever referred to the baby box as anything other than "Chanel's Throne". Hobbes and Manuel never seemed in the slightest bit interested in the new furniture or the room itself, but Chanel claimed it all as her personal property and played in the room almost every night. I bought Kelly a thick fluffy dressing-gown for when she went in to hospital; Chanel discovered it hanging behind the door, decided it was obviously hers, and climbed up and down it for fun, partially shredding it and leaving claw marks and stray threads sticking out everywhere. I couldn't be mad at her. Somehow she turned the unfamiliar baby's room into a fun family place. I often told Kelly that Chanel was baby's good luck charm. Chanel had never looked happier or healthier as she did during the past few months, nor acted like Daddy's Girl more affectionately, nor played more enthusiastically... jumping out at me from behind door frames, standing on her hind legs and waving her front paws in the air... running past me at full speed down the hallway for no other reason than to hear me yell "JESUS CHANEL YOU ALMOST GAVE ME A HEART ATTACK"... arching her back with fur on end, scuttling sideways at me through the living room trying to look intimidating (a sight to behold) and fleeing in mock terror as I joined in the game and ran after her... jumping at me and climbing up my body to sit on my shoulder, tail wrapped around my neck. The last photograph I posted of her, outside in the grass, looking full of life, was taken just last week. Baby's due date came and went, so it was almost time. Kelly started feeling strong contractions -- not regular, but different -- last Saturday. At the same time, Chanel started looking a bit unhappy; nothing scary, just... not herself. Kelly's contractions really started kicking in on Sunday, and Chanel started looking quite unwell. She started making a strange coughing noise every now and then, and stopped playing. She would come to me to be picked up but would not jump or climb. When I held her she would purr, but not happily. It was a "please look after me" rattle rather than the blissed-out buzz I knew. On Monday, when Kelly looked me in the eye and said "I think it's started" Chanel looked worse than ever. I'm going to skim the next couple of days because I'm losing it now. I took Chanel to the vet, had her checked over with no real hint as to what was wrong with her, and took her home with some antibiotics. I tried to pamper her as best I could and hoped that the antibiotics would help, then took Kelly to the hospital. I stayed with Kelly through her labour and the baby's birth then went straight home to see Chanel. She looked bad. I took little Chanel back to the vet wrapped in an unwashed t-shirt of mine, hoping that my smell would comfort her while I was away. I explained to the vet that I had to go to the hospital and why, and asked the staff to look after her and do whatever they could while I went to see Kelly and my new son. We were all exhausted, and the staff at the maternity ward let me sleep on the floor in Kelly's room with the baby. Baby woke us in the morning to start his first day in the world, and my phone rang. It was the vet, and he was ringing to tell me that Chanel had died early that morning, for no clearly identifiable reason. She'd just... died. After Kelly helped me up, I left the hospital in a daze of tears and went to the vet to seek explanations (there really weren't any), and to take my little girl home. Once we arrived I lay her down on the floor where she had learned to play, partially wrapped in the t-shirt in which I'd left her, so Hobbes and Manuel could see her and smell her and hopefully understand that she would not be with us any more. They each came to Chanel as she lay there then ran from the house, eyes wide, tails down, and bellies close to the ground. I picked Chanel up and for the last time held her little body close to my chest and walked from room to room, quietly crying and trying to sing to her as I had always done, picturing her eyes open instead of closed and her body vibrating happily instead of still. And now I honestly cannot think or write of this any more. Chanel arrived in my life shivering and helpless just as my baby was conceived. She taught me to care for an infant just as I was most concerned about not knowing how, or if I was even ready to do so, then threw me in the deep end of the terrible responsibility of having someone you love depend on you utterly for everything. Chanel claimed as her own every single thing we bought for baby, and turned a cold room full of scary unfamiliar things into a warm room of love and fun. Then, just as my baby arrived in the world, she was gone. I'm not sure if there's any message or meaning in this anywhere, but when I think about her I cry. Here are some photos I've never posted before. Chanel only days after she arrived on my doorstep, on a towel with syringe ready for a feeding attempt. Kelly snapped this pic of me and "Daddy's girl" asleep in bed. Asleep in baby's cot just after we put a mattress and blankets in it for the first time. The two of us having a moment in the garden. This post has taken me over 24 hours to write, one sentence at a time.

8th July 2005, 17:42	#2
Deff I felt shocked	All I can say is wow, and losing anything one or thing is always hard.

8th July 2005, 18:11	#4
nostrom0	Wow, that's a very sad story. All the best to ya.

8th July 2005, 18:16	#8
g ø f u r b ø y	Well told. That was so moving and sad .

8th July 2005, 18:21	#10
kokain	Very moving, so sorry for your loss

8th July 2005, 18:24	#11
Mabd	Thanks Simon. I'd like to tell you about my Sulla but I can't, and you've written it anyway, though with different players.

8th July 2005, 18:24	#12
Sanguinius_nz	All I can say is that you have my deepest sympathies. I have gone through the same thing with my dog samson who had to be put to sleep due to cancer over a year ago one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through in my life.

8th July 2005, 18:42	#13
Blam	Its hard when the best things in our lives are taken away, I feel for you as have others had there beloved pets pass. As a pet owner who has lost as well.

8th July 2005, 19:09	#15
flic Dee Hast Mish	Chanel came into your life to teach you how to be a dad and she showed you that you'll make an excellent one. Sometimes it's not for us to know why these things happen, only to realise that your life is infinitely more blessed because she was in it.

8th July 2005, 19:10	#16
Jonas Undrawing	Wow. What an awkward happy / sad story. I think it's great you have realised how important she was towards showing you about being a father. I too have lost a cat who I hand-raised. Her name was "She" (mainly because the first thing I would say when I came home was "Where is she?"). Her birth and death were complicated and troublesome. I know how hard it is to see an animal you love that is in pain..

8th July 2005, 20:25	#17
Umberlee Little Dreamer	Simon, I'm so sorry to hear of your loss. Your post has moved me to tears, I can't begin to imagine how you feel right now. I hope that one day your pain will pass and you can think about the happy times you had with Chanel and smile, her time with you was a very special gift

8th July 2005, 18:06	#3
[BT]Monza	*speechless*

8th July 2005, 20:26	#18
yaksman	Damn that cuts me up reading it. I've never really felt truely sadened when someone close to me passes away but I hate it when animals do. Just a trait I posess. Sorry to hear of your loss Simon.

8th July 2005, 21:57	#21
dylan Huh?	That's really well said dude. It's incredibly sad and moving and yet I can't help think that you gave her an amazing 9 months that she very nearly didn't have.

8th July 2005, 22:38	#23
eff tee	Ooh a bit teary here. That little lady definitely accomplished what she was put on the earth for. Just remember that you gave her just as great a life as she gave you. And one day you'll be able to think of her and want to smile, instead of cry. Look forward to that. And you'll be a great Dad, you'll see.

8th July 2005, 23:28	#24
Jenza	After reading your post simon I bailed my eyes out for 20 minutes. I still don't know why I did, guess I had a shitload of bottled emotion :/ I have never experienced anything like this before, I still quite confused about it. Only reasoning I can think of is that I've had a lot fo funerals of grandparents lately where I've always tried to lock it in. Thanks for posting this, serously.

8th July 2005, 23:30	#25
Trigger Laserman	You upgraded from a kitten to a baby. Spooky coincidence with the time of arrival / departure of your kitten. Good to see it taught you many things and it seems it kept you very lovely company in the meantime. Nice story.

9th July 2005, 00:05	#26
Evoke	I went to dictionary.com to find a word to describe my feelings on all of this, but my search proved fruitless. Just sitting here, too scared to move in case a miracle passes by. thanks for writing this.

9th July 2005, 00:18	#28
Redneck	Talk about lumps in your throat. I'm so sorry for your loss Simon... this sounds like it'll be one of those experiences you look back on decades away thinking of the moments that defined your life. It's a very sad thing, but for some reason it also makes me feels so privileged just to be alive and on this earth. Thanks Si.

9th July 2005, 00:20	#29
MadMax Stuff	i often wondered how the little thing got on ... very sad

9th July 2005, 00:57	#30
Ksenia	I'm tearing through a box of tissue here. So very sad yet uplifting as well, as you both brought so much happiness to each other in those 9 months.

9th July 2005, 01:17	#32
Ashley Fuck up Ashley	I don't usually get brought to tears over something like this but for some reason I have been. Simon - what flic said is one of the reasons its so emotional, Chanel was there to teach you to be a father, and what a bloody good job you have done. Thanks.

9th July 2005, 01:21	#33
catlover	I too had my little kitty in the original thread of photos of pets. She was 9 months old when I last saw her the week before Christmas. I rang the all vets nearby and outside our area and the SPCA many times. I also tried the council and every agency that takes unloved or abandoned cats. I never found her so her fate is unknown but I hope she's alright wherever she is. My sympathies.

9th July 2005, 01:37	#34
Chrono User Awaiting Email Confirmation	Damn bro, I really feel for you.. I'm pretty speechless right now.

9th July 2005, 04:22	#35
?>Superman	Rough, these things happen though. Still very saddening, especially when it's such an important part of your life. Hope your doin okay bud.

9th July 2005, 08:00	#36
OY636	reincarnation, but damn lump in the throat.

9th July 2005, 08:59	#37
sv simulationszeitalter	Thats a beautiful eulogy. I think theres a lot of meaning there - in part thats why the story is so touching. We mourn a loss by cherishing the life, which is what you've done in your post. What a lovely experience you had together. Thanks for sharing it.

9th July 2005, 09:43	#38
Maniak	Damn, it's harsh loosing someone or a pet that you care about so much. Beautifully written. Take heart in looking after Marshall and Kelly.

9th July 2005, 10:39	#40
Adunaphel	Wow... that was amazing you shared that. Cheers Si. .. That was an inspiration.