The Passing of PITA

Thursday, June 25, 2026, started out like any other normal day. I got up, fed Kota, greeted the girls,  promising each one that I would feed them once I fed my outside kitties. With their complaints resonating in my ears, Kota and I stepped outside to greet the day.

Walking into the main enclosure, something felt off. All of the kitties (including Ashley) rushed out to greet me, wondering what kind of goodies I had in store for them. They were surrounding me with ankle bumps and meows. But wait: where was PITA in all this?

Typically, PITA would be at the back of her cage, adding her voice to the feline chorus. Walking up to the main feeding platform, I could clearly see the back of her cage. Not only was her voice missing, but so was she! Had she somehow escaped her cage in the night? Dropping everything I hurried around to the front of her cage, opening up her door.

She was lying on the cat condo, her chest rising and falling in erratic waves. I reached out to touch her. Suddenly she exploded. She became a whirling dervish, constantly in motion, head-bumping my forehead as I leaned further inside, trying in vain to count her respirations.

Finally, I gave up. I simply folded my arms around her, singing her a special lullaby, reserved just for her. Now my mind was whirling. What could’ve set her off like this?

Eventually, I could feel her settling down. She nestled deep into my arms. Her breathing was still abnormal. While she was at rest, I counted. Her respirations were up to 78 breaths per minute. I could also feel deep within her tremor which were now invading her body.

What followed that day was 34 days of an emotional roller coaster for both of us. She would have good days, she would have bad days. On her good days, she showed me in every way possible that she was grateful that I was with her. I was with her every single day. She is 17 years old. I’ve had her since she was a kitten. I did so much research, talked to so many people. But what I couldn’t do during that period of time was take her to the vet. I simply couldn’t make it happen.

She stopped eating much. I ended up getting her Delectables. It was the only thing she had any interest to eat.

Although she was barely eating - perhaps half a teaspoon a day - she did not lose weight. She wasn’t nauseated. There was no vomiting, nausea, no fevers, no black tarry stools. She had a few petit mal seizures. There was very little activity in her litter boxes. I wanted to take her in so badly. But due to circumstances beyond my control, I couldn’t manage it.

Last night I had a dream. I was in the cat enclosure. I was spending time with her. She was having a good day. She tolerated the love and pets that I was giving her for just a tiny bit. Then her eyes grew glassy she turned her back to me. This was a posture I had grown to accept. It was her way of telling me that she was not going to have a good day any longer. Then she escaped to the back of her cage.

I closed her cage door, started cleaning litter boxes and straightening up, talking to the kitties as I worked. I felt this strange feeling; I looked around and there was Mike!

He didn’t look like a ghost, he didn’t look like a vision. He wasn’t sprouting angel wings. He was solid. I was so stunned, I couldn’t speak. At first, he didn’t speak to me. He just smiled his special smile that he reserved just for me.

He was by her cage. Without even opening the door, he reached inside and picked her up. He snuggled her deep into his arms. Then he turned to me and he said: “Now, it’s my turn.”

Then they both vanished. I woke up, my face was wet. I knew deep in my heart that this was her last day with us.

The stars aligned, I called the vet. A friend was at the ready all day waiting for a call back to see what time they could get me in to get PITA euthanized. Thanks to a giving heart from a caring friend, I had the money finally.

My appointment was at 4:40. My friend who was doing errands at the time picked me up at 4 o’clock. Before we left the driveway I asked her to pray with me. I asked God to please give PITA a peaceful end. Please give Dr. Steve the skill that he needs to help her exit this life quickly.

On the way to the vet, just a block away, PITA’s cries of distress turned into three quick death howls - then,  silence. My friend quickly pulled over to the side of the road and I jumped out. Opening the back end I found her in full seizure mode. I’ll spare you all the details. I called the vet as we sped down the road.

I’m surprised my friend didn’t get a ticket. They rushed me into a room. When they went to pick her up to weigh her, she screamed bloody murder. I looked at her and I knew she was already gone. God had taken her to the point where there was nothing left. Her soul was departing. It was over so quick. Now she is at peace. Now she is with Mike and Jeremy.

I kept apologizing to the vet telling him that I tried to get her in quicker, but under the circumstances I couldn’t. He finally stopped me and told me that he knows how much I care for my animals and how good I am with them. I didn’t even see any change in her until that fateful day, June 25, 2026. In the time before her passage, we connected on such a deep level. I am sure that Mike is holding her as fiercely as I would be right now if I was up there instead of him.

Godspeed my sweet girl. We called you, PITA with love in our hearts. Yes, you were a Pain In The A--, but you were also a cat like no other. I know my son and my husband are getting hundreds of head-bumps now.