It was April 20, 2004. It was raining outside and I was recovering from some sort of crud. I had moved in with a roommate a couple of months earlier and was still working out the whole "living in a space with another person" thing, which I wasn't particularly good at. My significant other of the time had "gifted" me with a few extra cats. I already had my cat (Harvey, Voted World's Best Cat 15 years running at that point, by a jury of his owner), but there was now Tigger and ${INSERT_OTHER_CAT_NAME}. They were fine, but they weren't mine and Harvey wasn't a fan. He rightfully noted that we didn't need a second or third cat.
Anyway, like I said, it was raining outside. Higgins, my roommate, heard a noise at the door. He opened it and a skinny little black cat ran inside. She immediately bolted to the basement (because of course she did) and ultimately found the cat food there.
She was thin to the point of emaciation. I had seen a group of feral kittens outside on the street a time or two, and she was clearly one of those. They were all jet-black to the point of invisibility in the darkness, and she was no exception. She ate a pile of cat food, wandered around for about an hour rubbing her I-assumed-Feline-Leukemia-infected-cat-spit-coated-body on the other cats, and just like that, we had another cat. The next evening, she was wandering some more, stopped, pooped in the floor (!), farted audibly to the point of startling both Harvey and Tigger, and cleared the room with the stench. Having not yet been named, she was immediately dubbed Stinky-Butt Kitty and has been so for 20 years and change. Unfairly to her, it was sort of a one-time event, probably due to her diet, but the name stuck. I have been given considerable static for that name across time, and all y'all can shut up -- I'm juvenile about 92% of the time and that's her name.
Of course, I had to take her to the vet to ensure that she wasn't carrying anything that would hurt the others (well, Harvey, because Tigger and other cat were just visitors as far as I was concerned, and Shannon could take care of them). After a vet bill that I was ill-equipped to pay at the time, it was sort of assumed that she lived at my house now.
Also as a matter of course, she decided that she didn't like the other cats. Harvey slept with me, as did the other two, and so she slept with Higgins. She would creep out of his room, where he spent an inordinate amount of time studying and playing World of Warcraft (definitely not in that order). She appeared happy enough, if incredibly skittish, so that's how things were.
Time passed. The once-significant other became the insignificant-not-other, and fetched the other two cats, leaving the house with a bench-depth of merely two-cats/zero-dogs. That's basically zero pets. I somehow stumbled into someone worth sticking with, who soon got a dog (Dave, the Lord Puppypants, First of His Name). By this time, Harvey gave 0 h*cks, Stinky-Butt never left Higgins' room, and Dave was curious but not aggressive towards the kitties. The new S/O just considered SBK to be "Higgins' Cat" (as did I, if I'm being honets) because we so rarely saw her, and if we did it was a black blur running to or from his room. I still paid for her food and healthcare, but she did not seem to care for me.
More time passed, and we bought a house. Higgins moved in with us temporarily (he needed a place to stay for a little while until he went of to Kazakhstan for the Peace Corp). He left Stinky-Butt behind, of course, and suddenly she had no one to sleep on. As this was clearly not acceptable for a cat of her station, she became substantially more social in search of monkeys in possession of thumbs who could use the grooming brush on her. By this time, we also had Skip, who astute readers will remember was sent on home a few short weeks ago (leaving a Skip-shaped hole in my life).
At this point he was young and had already make his first three kills. Since achieving double-Oh status with Her Majesty's Secret Service, he decided Stinky-Butt was also a rat. A rat that LIVED IN THE HOUSE AND APPARENTLY HIS HANDLERS WERE OK WITH!?!?!? Settling that problem was very challenging, and actually took more than a year. But SBK took it in stride, Skip eventually got over it, and we lived in harmony until 2024-08-23. I still miss you, Little Man.
She was afraid of a few things, like outside or dogs or bugs or loud noises or people who weren't Higgins (originally) or people who weren't us (eventually) or pretty much any and every thing that was new. She hates car rides. She has lived the vast majority of her life in two rooms (Higgins' old room at our townhouse and Higgin's former room at our current house, which is now my office). That demesne was hers, to be shared with me as she saw fit.
But she loves the grooming brush, sleeping, eating, glaring disdainfully, and staring intently at you while you sleep. She also loves twist-ties, and I have kept a supply of them in my desk drawer for years now.
Stinky-Butt has spent most of her time sleeping, as cats do, and once Skip had to sleep in his containment unit (to avoid injury) she spent much of her time sleeping on me. It was both annoying and comforting. She would climb under the covers with the two little dogs (Charlie and Jack-Jack), snuggle up under my arm, and purr for the entire night until she needed to get up and do cat stuff. I dunno what cat stuff is. She would complain if I moved, so I learned not to move, as is meet and right.
On the same day in August that we sent Skip home, Stinky-Butt Kitty lost the use of her rear legs. She has had a bit of excretory problem for about a year now, but we thought we had it under control. I figured she might get the use of her legs back once we spent the time, money, and effort combatting this instance of her UTI issues. Apparently, telling her to stop being lazy and get up was not effective.
Alas, recovery was not to be. She got (mostly) over the UTI after about $600US of testing, time, and treatment. But her paraplegia appears to have been neurological. So we put her into one of Skip's containment units, used the washable piddle pads to keep it clean, used half a case of pet wipes to keep HER clean, and tried to keep her comfortable. She got all the scratches, all the pettings, all the snuggles, and as much wet food as she wanted, which was a lot, initially. Her demands to be fed wet food were epic across much of the last month.
But like it does for all living things, time marched inexorably onward.
Her decline was rapid across the last week. Her front legs aren't working well, and she probably is experiencing at least some degree of renal failure. She doesn't drink much, so we give her subcutaneous fluid. I hold the dish of wet food to her face, and she gives it a few perfunctory licks, but she is no longer in the Clean Bowl Club.
It is time.
Today is Stinky-Butt Kitty's lastday. We are sending her home. This afternoon, she will make the same trip Skip made almost exactly a month ago. She hates car rides, and effectively all car rides save one have been to the vet. For that I am extremely sorry, baby girl. I would change it if I could.
I'm handling it about as well as one can when two pets that have been in your life for much of half your adult life leave within a month of each other. The S/O is on the couch with her right now, giving her a cuddle. We're doing her paw imprints in a few minutes, and then I will sit with her on a piddle-pad and give her a cuddle. We have more than enough pads for the rest of her time with us. Higgins came by yesterday to give her a final petting.
After Higgins opened the door and SBK bolted into our life and our house, we never saw any of her kitty-siblings again. I hope they all found a sucker like him to open the door and let them in from the rain, extorting the residents of the home into making them permanent freeloading members of the household. And I hope that, like her, they all lived well past 20.
So pour one out for Stinky-Butt Kitty, who turned out to be my cat after all. She was a very good cat, and she will be missed.
<3