I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but on Wednesday November 25th, we lost our dear friend Cagney the Cat. As the condolences roll in from around the world, we reflect on her time with us.
Several years ago, we learned that Cagney had chronic kidney disease. The whole house banded together to help her beat it. We didn’t print up shirts with Team Cagney on them, but we were always there as her support group. We accompanied her on what became 2 to 3 doctor visits in a single week. I know that’s not the image people have of cats and terriers. Most probably think that we’re constantly trying kill one another. Sure, we barked a lot and chased her every chance we could, but we all loved Cagney the Cat.
She happily endured an endless series of tests, treatments, vitamin injections, ointments, fluid shots — even sneaking medicine in her food. We all hoped they would make her better for good, but it seems that most of them are just a matter of buying time, which is still a good thing. Throw in a bout with pancreatitis and arthritis, and just everyday stuff must have been a painful chore for her. Still, Cagney was very Terrier-like throughout the the whole ordeal. She never failed to greet us at the door when we returned from an excursion, if only to give us a reminder that she was overdue on getting some biscuits.
Cagney was from Madison, VA and came onboard in late 2004. After a lot of online searches, Hank picked her out of all the cats he saw to be a companion for Shania the Cat. He didn’t know it at the time, but when he went to pick her up, she had already spent 2 years in the shelter. She was small and shy at first, but soon enough her big personality came shining through. Back then, Hank was still a puppy himself. Shania the Cat wasn’t too thrilled to share her position as princess of the house. In no time Cagney the Cat was trying to nudge Hank away from his food bowl and playing tug-o-war with him. Games of hide-and-seek with Shania soon followed. Shy Cagney the Cat, only 3 pounds at the time, fit right in with a feisty Norfolk Terrier and a proud Maine Coon cat.
In her own quiet way, Cagney the Cat was fearless. One of our favorite pics shows her relaxing at the edge of the woods in a stand of stilt grass. Hank and Otto told me they once had to chase away an encroaching fox headed in Cagney’s direction. She’d sometimes take ages to get outside, and we’d often have to go back to the door several times to encourage her to come play outside. But once outside, she strolled confidently around, at least until a noise or something out of the ordinary startled her. I guess when you have a couple of tough Norfolk Terriers watching over you, you don’t have too much to worry about.
As our merry cast changed over time, Cagney the Cat was one of the constants. By 2020, she was the last living connection back to Hank and Shania. As Otto, Milo, myself, Lexi, Madeline, and Jaxon joined our family, Cagney the Cat seemed timeless. Maybe we thought that she’d live forever, or at least outlast the rest of us. She was the embodiment of “once a kitten, always a kitten.” Jaxon and I encouraged her to make this the title of a book. Maybe she’d share some of the royalties with us to boost our biscuit budget. Apparently cats aren’t prone to writing like us Terriers. Come to think of it, Hank was the only serious writer in our group. Jaxon puts all of his energy into yapping up a storm, which doesn’t leave much time or energy for writing.
When I reluctantly sat down to write this post, I pulled out Hank’s notes from his journal. I made a special effort to remember everything that he and Otto told me about Cagney the Cat. I was surprised — astounded is really a better word — to learn that at the time of her passing, Cagney the Cat was over 18 years old. She had a long life. With all of her chronic diseases, Cagney the Cat outlived her dear friend Hank.
As you all know, this blog is pretty much all things Norfolk Terrier. It takes a special cat to make it on our website. Cagney was just that type of cat. She was small. Heck, she even made little Jaxon look big. But she was a tough fighter. Over the years she gave me more than a few scratches as proof. She had a hiss that Jaxon and I just had to respect. I’ll admit, even if a little begrudgingly, that this pint-sized cat, more of a kitten really, could hold her own against us Norfolk Terriers.
As time passed, the kidney disease was taking its toll. We had just been to the doctor a few days before and were scheduled to go back again in a few days. But her health was failing fast, and she’d never make it to that scheduled appointment. She was finding it hard to even walk at a steady pace, and we worried about her going up and down stairs. She seemed to sense that her time with us was coming to an end. On what became her last day, Cagney the Cat went around the house to give us a head butt and say a final goodbye. We pushed her to take some water, but she couldn’t even get in a good lick if she could manage to lower her head to the water bowl. It’s hard enough for a dog to manage a computer keyboard. You would have laughed at our effort to get her a few drops of water with an eyedropper. Sure, we know that a dog’s paws aren’t cut out for that kind of stuff, but we were prepared to try anything, even if we looked stupid doing it.
Hoping against hope, we took her to the doctor. The report was even more bleak than we expected. The doctor said her blood test showed values that were off the charts, above the range of the machine they used to test such things. This was one time when you didn’t want to be breaking records. She was in a lot of discomfort, and there wasn’t any hope of fixing things. I made the painful decision to grant her peaceful rest. I’ve found over the years that every cat really appreciates a good nap. For all the fun we shared, she deserved to be at rest.
Cagney the Cat was our resident Diva. As small as she was, you could hear her coming down the hall because she had a habit of pushing her paws into the floor. She’d never hesitate to his if you annoyed her, and she’d never hesitate to cry endlessly if she thought she was at risk of being shortchanged a few biscuits or denied an opportunity to conduct her daily survey of the garage. In the days since her passing, we miss those sounds. We’ll never forget them.
All in all, I think I wrote a good post. I think Cagney would like it. Hopefully, when we meet again, she looks out for her friend and decides not to swat my head. Or at least not too hard.
Rest in peace, Cagney the Cat.
Some of Our Favorite Pics of Cagney
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