Forever May Not Be Long Enough (for Our Love)

Sophie Marie Barger

(2005-2022)

My sweet baby girl went blind on Christmas Day 2021 - the Cool Whip on a Cow Pie of a year, if you will.  I knew because her beautiful golden eyes were now dull, her pupils huge and unchanging.  I was horrified for her.  I know I tend to anthropomorphize my pets, so I was concerned about her being afraid and wondering what had happened.  But she seemed to be fine.  After a wee bit of initial hesitation, she was soon scampering around the condo like normal only pausing a little before leaping up on / down from furniture.

I did take her to the vet, who did bloodwork, but the bloodwork came back clean, showing now kidney issues, diabetes, or a third thing which I forget.  So in response to why was she blind now, his response was a shrug.  I never liked him, more on that later, and this did nothing to change my opinion of him.  He said that blind pets can live long, healthy lives.  I mean, I'm not stupid, of course they can.  But, excuse me, people (ok, cats) don't just go blind for no apparent reason!  (calm, Rosemary, calm..)  But then this is the same "doctor" who, when I asked why my solid black cat all of a sudden now had a stark white patch/ line of hair about an inch and half long told me that as cats get older, like people, they turn grey.  Oh, I detested that man.

For about a month, she was fine.  You'd really not have known she was blind.  She did "talk" a lot - earning her the moniker "Princess Demand-y-pants".  Like if she was in a room alone, she'd start wailing until we'd call to her from wherever we were and she'd come running and be perfectly happy until she wandered off and found herself alone in another room again.

For a week or so before Valentine's Day, I noticed she was having more problems - walking into things, not leaping/landing very well - then on Valentine's Day evening, we heard her wailing and when I went in to investigate, she'd squeezed herself between mom's bedside table and the wall and couldn't get out.  Somehow, I knew then that this was the beginning of the end.  It was a very long night for both of us, I'd fall asleep with her in my arms and wake up to her wailing because she'd managed to get herself caught again - like, she'd squeezed herself between my cedar hope chest and the wall (and we're talking less than 2 inches of space between them, here) and couldn't get out.  It took a prayer and a lot of adrenal-fueled strength on my part to move that hope chest so I could get my baby out.

I've always known, since the day I brought them home, that the odds were I would outlive my babies, and that some day I'd have to make THE decision, but I'd prayed that when the time came, I'd know it.  And I knew this was it, so once the vet's office opened that morning, I called to try to get her in and was told they couldn't get us in until the afternoon of the following day.  I mean, here I am, sobbing, telling them it's time for Sophie to go to sleep, and they're making me AND her deal with it for another 36 hours!?  I called various other vets around town and finally, a vet in Boonville (40+ minutes away, mind you), who didn't know me (or Sophie) from Adam, got us in that afternoon, within a couple of hours.  The vet was so comforting and reassuring that I was doing the right thing (because you know of course I was worrying that I wasn't).

Sophie went to sleep in my arms, well, on my lap.  She was cremated and now resides in a cute little urn beside the oil painting of her (that I am SO glad I got).

Last spring/summer, I decided I needed a tattoo for my sweet girl.  It took me a while to figure out what I wanted, but when I figured it out, I knew it was right.  

My only regert about it is the tail isn't as fluffy Sophie's was.

As for Sophie's "vet"?  Well, Gizmo and Cleo's vet retired during the pandemic, so I'd transferred their records over to her vet.  Since they were (NOT) so willing to assist in my/Sophie's time of distress, I didn't figure they needed our business anymore.  And the woman in Boonville was so nice.  So, yes, once a year, or so, I now pack up Giz (or Cleo, respectively) and traipse all the way to Boonville with them.  Gizmo does not enjoy car-rides, so I don't think he cares if it's 5 miles or 40 minutes away.  Cleo, it turns out, LOVES car-rides and I let her sit there with her head out of the carrier just watching stuff as we drive by.  She also flirts with the people in the McD's drive-thru when I swing through to get a frozen Coke on the way home.  

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I adopted Sophie and Gizmo (littermates) in 2005.  A former co-worker found them and their siblings abandoned shortly after birth in her barn.  She bottle fed the kittens and then when they were ready for homes, she sent out an email asking for takers.  That email was forwarded to me and that was that.  I immediately fell in love with the little womp rats and asked her to give me a couple of months as I was going to have to give notice to my landlord and find a new apartment which would allow pets.  I took possession of my new, pet-friendly apartment and they took possession of my heart on September 1st.

Our first five years together were rather quiet, just me and them... and I was away each day from 7:30 to 5:30 (at work), so it was just them during that time.  They grew from clumsy kittens into beautiful adult cats.

Their first "official" portrait as Bargers

I tried to get them to find jobs as models, but they never did.... I don't think they even tried looking.

When my father passed away in the summer of 2009, I gave notice to my landlord and we packed up and moved back to Wadesville with Mom and her cat Winifred.  Winifred adored Gizmo and Sophie hated Winifred.  About 8 months later, Cleo landed on our doorstep, and Sophie hated her as well.

I quickly realized that Sophie tolerated Gizmo, but would have been VERY happy to be an only child.  However, since she had been declawed (don't judge me, I didn't know any better), she couldn't do any damage to Winifred or Cleo and they, despite having claws, did no damage to her.

After about a year in Wadesville, we sold the house and bought a condo in Evansville.  They all took to the condo immediately - especially enjoyed chasing each other up/down the stairs.  

My only concern was our 3rd floor balcony - I didn't want anyone to fall off and kill themself.  

But my worries were for naught.  They all LOVED the balcony, but mostly just went out to sleep in the sun or in the chairs.  The only one to ever escape the balcony was, of course, Sophie.  She jumped on the railing and hopped over onto the balcony of the condo next door.  I was at work one day when an email blipped across my phone from someone I didn't recognize but the message was "is anyone missing a black cat?"  I knew immediately whose black cat it was and called mom.  I asked if she knew where Sophie was... she said she assumed she was asleep on the balcony... I told her not to assume and to go look on the neighbor's balcony.  Mom tried to rescue her, but Sophie wouldn't let her pick her up to bring her home, so mom figured the better idea (instead of scaring Sophie off the balcony entirely) was to call me - I flew home and rescued my wayward child.  Did I mention that I loved this little hairball?

One of my fondest memories of Sophie is how when I would come home from work - generally, I'd park in the garage and walk up/around to the mailbox to pick up the mail, and then go up the outside stairs and in the front door.  It never failed that as I was unlocking the door, I could see her, through the window in the door, running from whatever part of the condo she was in to greet me at the front door; that little wobbly pouch that cats have swinging side to side; and her hairy little paws making the corners she turned dangerously wide.  Of course the minute I was in the door and said hi to her, she'd turn away and go elsewhere... probably didn't want me to think to she loved me too much!  At this point, with her gone, I really regret never getting a video of it.

  

During the pandemic, I started working from home.  In the beginning, before it became a (relatively) permanent thing, I had my operation set up on the dining room table.  Sophie would frequently hop up on the table and "assist" me. 

Then, after it became a more permanent thing, I set up a desk and she would (sometimes) keep me company.  Of course, after a couple of years of me working from home the cats have generally gotten over my being here 24/7, so I don't garner the attention I used to but...

occasionally, she'd make it known to me, in her own way, that she still deserved MY attention.

After Winifred passed away, Sophie adopted mom and would sleep with her.  Of course, that may or may not have led to the tearing of Mom's quad, but we'll forget that for the moment.  

 

Fortunately, since Sophie never weighed more than 8 pounds, soaking wet, her sleeping on mom's lap didn't hurt mom's legs.

As, I said before, Sophie hated Winifred, but she seemed ok with Faux-nifred!

Anytime I dug out the suitcase, she knew I was leaving and would do her best to prevent me from packing.  And generally, when I returned from wherever, she would shun me for a few hours.... until she'd forget/forgive and hop into my lap.

Nothing to say about the pirate picture, but she was so pretty I felt I should include this pic.

Again, she tolerated Gizmo, but this picture is so striking of how much they looked alike (except for color and the quantity of hair).  I adore that they are both giving me the exact same side-eyed look!

During one of her many medical issues, I had to keep her in a "onesie" to keep her from bothering a hot spot.  She looked like a sausage with incredibly hairy extremities... but she was adorable.  I doubt she appreciates the couture, but...

Medical issues of course included her being the runt of the litter and almost dying; almost dying of liver failure; having a tumor removed from between her mouth and brain-box; the "tummy tuck" to remove the hot spot she refused to leave alone; there was another surgery in there, which I can't recall what it was regarding...hmm..; and of course the MANY times she'd just up and stop eating for whatever reason only known to her.  Regarding that, I must say that in January 2020, while mom was in rehab and my life was falling apart, Sophie decided to stop eating, again.  I was standing in the kitchen, in tears and I said "Lord, You created this contrary little turd!  I can't worry about her along with everything else.   She's Your responsibility from now on!"  And I'll be damned if that beautiful bag of fur and bones didn't start eating right in front of me.... and never just stopped eating again.  

She was a blessing.  She could be frustrating, she was expensive (note that pet insurance did not pay a dime for any of the THREE surgeries the child had while I had the policy on her, so it was a waste of good money too).  She hoarked up hairballs everywhere, all the time.  Because of her, we had to have 5 litterboxes around the condo!  But she was a blessing and I still miss her.  Her being all black and shadowy-like, it took a while for me not to expect to see her yellow eyes peering out at me from a dark corner.  

I can't say if Gizmo and Cleo missed her when she disappeared, but I do know that through some silent agreement, the two of them sort of divied up Sophie's self-appointed duties.  Cleo escorts me to the bathroom now; and Gizmo, having seen how effective her loudly crying for attention was, now loudly talks non-stop!  So now he is Sir Demand-y Pants! hahah!