Thirteen years ago I was new at my day job and during the weekly department meeting my boss, Robin, announced her cat had a litter of kittens and please-oh-please, people take them! I jokingly mentioned it to Anna that night. We already had three cats, and adding a fourth was out of the question. Yeah, she didn’t think it was so out of the question, and the next night we were at Robin’s playing with the kittens. The little gray and white kitten stood out as relentlessly precocious, exceptionally strong-willed, and fearless – traits Clementine retained her whole life. Even after she left the “kitten” stage she still embodied that playful zeal and we took to referring to her as a “perma-kitten”.In the last month or so she’d started losing weight at a concerning clip. Friday night I noticed she wasn’t keeping food down anymore, and I knew I would have to take her in to the vet for likely the last time. Saturday morning, she started meowing to be let out. She’s been an indoor cat since I moved to this house, so that in and of itself was odd. While I tried to get Winston in and out to go to the bathroom, Clementine darted out three times. I knew what she wanted to do, but I wasn’t okay with it. Before I left I closed all the windows down to make sure she couldn’t get out. Well, all but one. At some point she managed to dislodge the upper corner of the narrow window in the back and wriggle out.
Clemmie is gone.
While it’s cliche to say this is the hardest part of having pets, it’s also true. Not being able to say a proper goodbye doesn’t help. When I sensed we were getting near the end I had “the talk” with her, telling her she’s loved and that when she needs to, just go.
I didn’t mean that literally.
I’ve been reflecting on the time I had with Clemmie, trying to tell myself that she had a great life for a cat. I think that’s true. Clementine had:
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Three kitty siblings during her life with me — she was never lonely on that front.
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Quickly gained a second mom. Kione almost immediately treated Clementine like her own kitten and throughout her life you wouldn’t find Clemmie too far from Kione:
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She got to play with chickens, or at figure out why these giant birds were not worth chasing.
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She terrorized a young Winston. From the moment he set his paws in the house, Clemmie put him in his place. One of her favorite things was to stand on the edge of our loveseat and swat at him to get him to run and then proceed to race around the perimeter of the loveseat swatting him as he ran around and around the furniture. They did eventually make peace, though.
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Had a week-long outdoor adventure shortly after moving here. I thought at the time I might have lost her then. No, she came back eventually. This time, though… I know she’s gone.
Kione, if you’re wondering, is doing fine. I think she knew Clemmie was gone before she left. And, between you and me, I think Kiki might just prefer being the only cat. Winston… well, bless his heart, he’s Winston. But, while they’re adjusting fine, I’m not doing so well. The house is quieter, emptier without Clemmie. She wasn’t always making noise mind you, but she filled the space with that palpable parma-kitten energy and with it gone… it’s really noticeable, and sad. I know I’ll move on — this isn’t my first proverbial rodeo. But Clemmie was always climbing on me like none of the other animals. She was, well, mine – or I was hers:
Clementine, wherever you are, may you be at peace. May you have regained that joie de vivre that you embodied throughout your life. I hope you’re reuniting with Shurik and Amaya and saving a place for Kione — though don’t get any ideas because she’s not going anywhere anytime soon. You were loved. You are loved. You live in my heart. Farewell little critter.
