Maia

Our 15 years old cat has been diagnosed with aggressive carcinoma, mouth cancer. Her mouth is being destroyed by it, very quickly. The diagnosis was actually very vague, biopsy was inconclusive, my vet didn't think it was carcinoma, and we waited thinking maybe it was...what? Just a benign cyst?   

When I first found the cyst, over the summer of 2017, I felt it was not a good thing. It just felt weird. It seemed to have appeared suddenly one day, on her mandible, right where we stroke and pet her. A visit to the vet, a biopsy, inconclusive test results, and the cyst kept growing. Finally a visit to the oncologist confirmed that it was more serious than we had wanted to believe, and that surgery was needed ASAP.  But we chose not to operate. I knew surgery was going to be so hard on her, and the cancer, as far I had learned, always comes back. They would have had to take out some of the teeth, maybe part of the mandible. No, we don't want to put her through that. She's a terrible patient, screaming bloody murder when you touch her, true to her feral roots.

I love this photo of Maia because it captures her essence. Sweet and adorable, but also always ready to pounce with her nails drawn.

We found Maia at a goat farm......we had gone to inquire about keeping goats, since we lived on a large triple lot which had been invaded by the forest around....We left the farm with no goats, but with this kitten who had been found in the barn with her feral mom and 2 other kittens. Maia was only 4 weeks old approximately, but she was feral and it was a good time to introduce her to humans. She was already hissing at us when we picked her up (her eyes were still closed, and she could not walk yet!). I had experience with feral kittens from my past working at an animal hospital, and I had raised several feral litters of kittens in my 20s, so I knew the work involved. 

Our first shot of Maia. She had just opened her eyes, probably a little over 4 weeks old

We took Maia home and she slept inside my shirt during the ride home. I bottle fed her for a couple of weeks (every few hours, even through the night), and massaged her belly after each feeding like her mom would do to stimulate her bowels. For weeks we never separated, and she slept with us in a basket between our pillows, and she came with me wherever I went, first in her little basket, and later in a cat carrier.  I had to find and get a ferret litter box so it was small enough for Maia to get in and out of, and she did great with litter training.

Our other cat Hannah was NOT happy about this new addition, but they later became good sisters.

Maia displayed hunting and stalking capacities very early. She also was fearless and we found her outside one day at only 3 months old. She had succeeded in jumping up on a bench and made it outside through an open window. 

As most kittens, she was either on or off and played hard when on, and slept greatly when off, mostly near or on us, as she was used to being next to us since she was so tiny. That desire and easiness in being close always stayed with her and even now we can be touching faces and she's relishing the closeness.

Todd took this photo of me napping with tiny Maia wrapped around my neck

She would turn 16 this coming July. Most likely she's not going to be around in her physical body.  She seemed close to death the other day, not having been able to eat much at all for a couple of days. I was besides myself with grief, crying uncontrollably, and not being able to function.  I later wondered, partly through internal dialogue and partly through external dialogue with my husband, how I could feel so much grief. It seemed my grief, not hers. Was I crying for myself, or for her?

What is this grief that we feel, is it truly for them, or is it that we have the grief stuck inside? I have been working for a long time on staying grounded, being centered, and not let external circumstances sway me. I believe (I know) the people and animals around us, our whole world, is always conspiring to support us get in touch with our best self, our most loving and compassionate self; the self who responds to life vs the self who reacts and creates drama and scenarios to feed the ego. Am I still working on that? Apparently so.

During a very early supervised foray outside

As I look at what this grief is about, I am able to be of more use to Maia, and stay focused on what needs to be done for her. Make this about her wellbeing, not my emotions. While still tending to myself of course. 

This was a garden table which was painted and had some natural holes in, which she took advantage of!

Postscript June 2019

Maia did stick around till July of 2018, and left her body 3 weeks after we arrived on our land. She made it through a 7 hour car ride to Washington state, lived through a week in a AirB&B with all the other cats and dogs, then moved in with us in the tiny home. She was amazing, a real trooper as they say. Weak but still totally capable of moving about normally, climbing stairs and eating well. One day, on July 11, pretty much to the day we picked her up from the goat farm 16 years earlier (7/8/02), I found her in the litterbox, her face in the litter. She was too weak to move, and it was time to let her go. I called the vet, who came out the same day, and she was gone in less than an instant. We buried her close to the tiny home, and we made a nice shrine with pieces of nature.

Maia after her passing. We spent 2 hours holding her and sending her blessings after her departure.

Maia when she was a youngster, playing peekaboo in the garden.

It is always devastating and our hearts were broken. Maia was so tough I thought she was going to live forever. At least until 20 years old. But she was the first of our 3 cats, all similar ages, to depart.