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Today I had to let go of my sweet, beautiful, and indescribably special girl Chai. She went very peacefully and painlessly in my arms, wrapped in her favorite blanket and looking into my eyes purring gently until the sedation kicked in and she fell asleep... I kissed her goodbye and stayed with her to the end... But I can’t stop crying and it feels like there a piece of me has died with her. It was FIP, and while FIP is by nature cruel and unfair, this is honestly one of the cruelest and unfairest experiences I have ever had to go through in my life. It was far too soon and totally unexpected. I am completely shattered. I will never forget her as long as I live.
This post will be a bit long but a thousand pages wouldn’t be enough to describe how much she meant to me and to everyone who met her. She was so amazing and I wish I could do more to honor her... More than anything I wish I could bring her back...
In her short life Chai suffered a lot. She endured living as a semiferal on the streets, a car accident, a leg amputation, coronavirus and calicivirus, stomatitis, a full mouth extraction, and finally the fatal FIP—but she never stopped being brave, and she always forgave us. For that I will always remember her as the most joyful and inspiring little creature I’ve ever known.
She was found as a young street cat about a year ago, wandering the freezing streets with her front left leg badly injured and bone sticking out. She was taken in by a shelter and her leg was amputated. Though she recovered from her injuries, she was extremely shy and avoidant of people and labeled as wild and unadoptable. No one could touch her. While she liked other cats, she was packed in a room with many other stressed, aggressive cats and she hid almost all of the time.
I first saw her photo on Christmas Day, 2017, and something inside me knew she was mine (and not just because I have a gigantic soft spot for calicos!). Here is that first shelter photo:
Irresistible, right? I immediately sent a message to the shelter to inquire about her. (It is such a cruel twist of fate to have to lose her again at Christmastime just one year later...) I visited her in January 2018 and while she was scared, she crawled out to lick treats off my finger like the brave little fighter she was. I sensed more than ever in that moment that she craved connection and that I was her person.
I knew she would not be an easy first-time cat, though, so I thought about the decision for a while. I even joined and posted on this site for the first time looking for advice. In February I made my decision to adopt her. However, the shelter staff then told me she was just too wild and they couldn’t adopt her out. Undeterred, I kept asking. They finally said I could foster her first if I wanted and I agreed. Then, she got very sick. To this day I don’t know what she was sick with. They said they had to keep her in the shelter until she healed and they couldn’t tell me when or if she would be available. I was so sad, but it seemed like a dead end. I decided to move on and keep her in the back of my mind for when the time was right. But I thought about her and looked at her photos every single day.
In the meantime, my other cat Chilli (still alive and well) came into my life by happy chance. She is an easy, fun, amazing dream kitty and I bonded with her very closely and fast—but I also still couldn’t get that little three-legged cat out of my mind. However, my work was busy and my apartment was tiny and I felt I didn’t have time or the proper living situation for a second cat. I kept inquiring about Chai regularly for updates.
Finally, FINALLY, this August I moved to another place that was much bigger and I also had a break from work. I felt it was finally the time to bring Chai home. I can’t explain the joy I felt bringing her home that day in September, even though she was still terrified of me and I’d never even gotten to touch her yet—even still I loved her immediately. All the bowls and toys and “Chai stuff” I’d bought months ago came out again. I set up her safe room in the bathroom and the socialization process began.
I remember the first time she slow blinked at me. The first time she groomed and ate in front of me. The first time she flopped on her side and showed me her belly. The first time she came out of her hiding box with me nearby. The first time she sniffed my leg. The first time she let me pet her with the petting stick. The first time she meowed. The first time she purred. I remember lying in the most ridiculous, uncomfortable positions on the cold hard bathroom floor just to be near her and get her used to my presence. I would stay in that room for hours, talking and listening to her. We binge watched full seasons of cooking shows and dumb reality tv together on my laptop in that little bathroom while I fed her endless kibbles and treats. I teared up after the first time she let me pet her with my hand, about 5 weeks later (it seemed so long but really, it was so short, and she was so ready to be loved).
From that moment on it was all rapidly uphill in terms of her socialization. She absolutely worshipped Chilli from the start but she also warmed up to me too very quickly after that initial pet, and was always ready to start purring the second I offered my hand. She loved life, SO much, perhaps more than she could have ever imagined possible.
During the best weeks of her life, almost every waking moment was spent purring. She loved me. She loved her kitty sister. She even loved visitors. She just loved everything and everyone with a forgiveness and courage that I could never have imagined possible after all she’d been through. She loved being near Chilli constantly, annoying her with awkward three-legged headbutts and losing her little kitty mind when Chilli deigned to lick her face, rolling around and sleeping on her back on my heated floors, playing like crazy with her fishing rod toy, getting hours of pets and cuddles in bed, getting tummy rubs while cuddling my hand with her cheek and her single front paw, eating ALL the treats and stealing Chilli’s treats too, rubbing her head on the bottom of the coffee table, making “back toe muffins”, sleeping on all my clothes, sitting next to me purring on the couch for morning coffee time, racing around the house like a hooligan with Chilli at night, meowing at 6am for kibbles with the cutest and most irresistible face... and so much more. Even though I had such a tragically short time with her, I still have so many good memories.
When I think of her, I will always think of one special morning just a few short weeks ago. We awoke just before dawn to the first snowfall of the year. Chilli and Chai sat with me purring on the sofa in the warmth and quiet of my apartment while we watched the snow fall and the sky grow lighter. I remember for just a moment Chai looked up at me, with such profound peace and contentment, while she purred gently and let her chin rest on my hand. I will always try to remember her like that. I don’t know what I believe about an afterlife for our kitties but I hope with all my heart that wherever she is, she feels like that. Completely safe, loved, pain-free, and above all knowing she is not alone.
Goodbye my love. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. I tried the best I could. But even if I’d known this would happen I would do it all over again, without an ounce of hesitation. You were worth every second of it. You made me a better and kinder person and you brought so much light to me at a time when my world was so dark. I promise to try to live as fiercely and bravely as you did. Run fast and free on four legs and hunt lots of mousies and birdies at the bridge. Nothing and no one will ever hurt you again. I love you.
This post will be a bit long but a thousand pages wouldn’t be enough to describe how much she meant to me and to everyone who met her. She was so amazing and I wish I could do more to honor her... More than anything I wish I could bring her back...
In her short life Chai suffered a lot. She endured living as a semiferal on the streets, a car accident, a leg amputation, coronavirus and calicivirus, stomatitis, a full mouth extraction, and finally the fatal FIP—but she never stopped being brave, and she always forgave us. For that I will always remember her as the most joyful and inspiring little creature I’ve ever known.
She was found as a young street cat about a year ago, wandering the freezing streets with her front left leg badly injured and bone sticking out. She was taken in by a shelter and her leg was amputated. Though she recovered from her injuries, she was extremely shy and avoidant of people and labeled as wild and unadoptable. No one could touch her. While she liked other cats, she was packed in a room with many other stressed, aggressive cats and she hid almost all of the time.
I first saw her photo on Christmas Day, 2017, and something inside me knew she was mine (and not just because I have a gigantic soft spot for calicos!). Here is that first shelter photo:
Irresistible, right? I immediately sent a message to the shelter to inquire about her. (It is such a cruel twist of fate to have to lose her again at Christmastime just one year later...) I visited her in January 2018 and while she was scared, she crawled out to lick treats off my finger like the brave little fighter she was. I sensed more than ever in that moment that she craved connection and that I was her person.
I knew she would not be an easy first-time cat, though, so I thought about the decision for a while. I even joined and posted on this site for the first time looking for advice. In February I made my decision to adopt her. However, the shelter staff then told me she was just too wild and they couldn’t adopt her out. Undeterred, I kept asking. They finally said I could foster her first if I wanted and I agreed. Then, she got very sick. To this day I don’t know what she was sick with. They said they had to keep her in the shelter until she healed and they couldn’t tell me when or if she would be available. I was so sad, but it seemed like a dead end. I decided to move on and keep her in the back of my mind for when the time was right. But I thought about her and looked at her photos every single day.
In the meantime, my other cat Chilli (still alive and well) came into my life by happy chance. She is an easy, fun, amazing dream kitty and I bonded with her very closely and fast—but I also still couldn’t get that little three-legged cat out of my mind. However, my work was busy and my apartment was tiny and I felt I didn’t have time or the proper living situation for a second cat. I kept inquiring about Chai regularly for updates.
Finally, FINALLY, this August I moved to another place that was much bigger and I also had a break from work. I felt it was finally the time to bring Chai home. I can’t explain the joy I felt bringing her home that day in September, even though she was still terrified of me and I’d never even gotten to touch her yet—even still I loved her immediately. All the bowls and toys and “Chai stuff” I’d bought months ago came out again. I set up her safe room in the bathroom and the socialization process began.
I remember the first time she slow blinked at me. The first time she groomed and ate in front of me. The first time she flopped on her side and showed me her belly. The first time she came out of her hiding box with me nearby. The first time she sniffed my leg. The first time she let me pet her with the petting stick. The first time she meowed. The first time she purred. I remember lying in the most ridiculous, uncomfortable positions on the cold hard bathroom floor just to be near her and get her used to my presence. I would stay in that room for hours, talking and listening to her. We binge watched full seasons of cooking shows and dumb reality tv together on my laptop in that little bathroom while I fed her endless kibbles and treats. I teared up after the first time she let me pet her with my hand, about 5 weeks later (it seemed so long but really, it was so short, and she was so ready to be loved).
From that moment on it was all rapidly uphill in terms of her socialization. She absolutely worshipped Chilli from the start but she also warmed up to me too very quickly after that initial pet, and was always ready to start purring the second I offered my hand. She loved life, SO much, perhaps more than she could have ever imagined possible.
During the best weeks of her life, almost every waking moment was spent purring. She loved me. She loved her kitty sister. She even loved visitors. She just loved everything and everyone with a forgiveness and courage that I could never have imagined possible after all she’d been through. She loved being near Chilli constantly, annoying her with awkward three-legged headbutts and losing her little kitty mind when Chilli deigned to lick her face, rolling around and sleeping on her back on my heated floors, playing like crazy with her fishing rod toy, getting hours of pets and cuddles in bed, getting tummy rubs while cuddling my hand with her cheek and her single front paw, eating ALL the treats and stealing Chilli’s treats too, rubbing her head on the bottom of the coffee table, making “back toe muffins”, sleeping on all my clothes, sitting next to me purring on the couch for morning coffee time, racing around the house like a hooligan with Chilli at night, meowing at 6am for kibbles with the cutest and most irresistible face... and so much more. Even though I had such a tragically short time with her, I still have so many good memories.
When I think of her, I will always think of one special morning just a few short weeks ago. We awoke just before dawn to the first snowfall of the year. Chilli and Chai sat with me purring on the sofa in the warmth and quiet of my apartment while we watched the snow fall and the sky grow lighter. I remember for just a moment Chai looked up at me, with such profound peace and contentment, while she purred gently and let her chin rest on my hand. I will always try to remember her like that. I don’t know what I believe about an afterlife for our kitties but I hope with all my heart that wherever she is, she feels like that. Completely safe, loved, pain-free, and above all knowing she is not alone.
Goodbye my love. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. I tried the best I could. But even if I’d known this would happen I would do it all over again, without an ounce of hesitation. You were worth every second of it. You made me a better and kinder person and you brought so much light to me at a time when my world was so dark. I promise to try to live as fiercely and bravely as you did. Run fast and free on four legs and hunt lots of mousies and birdies at the bridge. Nothing and no one will ever hurt you again. I love you.