She Saved Me As Surely As I Saved Her

In May of 2010, my husband and I had been married for fewer than five years yet, and hadn't had a fight at all. One night, he headed over to a friend's house to play video games. I happily said sure, just be home at a decent hour. 1 AM came and went, and then 2 AM, and I went from worried to pretty angry by the time 5 AM rolled around. In the hours he was gone, I had gone out for multiple cigarettes (I was still a smoker back then) and the SWEETEST black kitty kept coming around to visit. She didn't care who I was, because apparently I was hers now. She had a green collar on, and we figured that she must have a home because of that.

Over the course of the next few weeks, this little black sweetie kept coming around. She would waltz into the house and terrorize our cats whenever she had the opportunity, and any time we were outside, there she was. My husband was staunchly against keeping her, and I was in agreement because hey, she had a collar so that meant she had a home. (I know, I know. I know better now.)

One night, I went outside for a smoke and she wasn't there. I sort of missed her presence but didn't think too much of it because yeah, she was probably at home. But then I heard her chirping and mewing. I called her a few times, and she finally came limping out of the shadows toward me. It took me all of 4 seconds to decide that she was going to the emergency vet, which in my city is wildly more expensive than your regular vet.

When we got to the vet, they asked me what her name was. Of course I had no idea, she wasn't my cat. As they went to remove her collar while I was filling out the paperwork, it was discovered that her collar was beginning to embed into the flesh in her neck. In that moment, I decided that yes, I was keeping the cat. Her name would be Audrey because that's what came to mind at that moment.

Between the multiple surgeries, xrays, bloodwork, aftercare, etc... I probably spent about 2 months worth of my salary on this weird little gremlin who had decided she owned my home. Over the course of the next few years, Audrey made a home in my heart that will forever be there. But it is one day in particular which marks the importance of the relationship we had.

I had been struggling with intense depression for a few years, and I had become tired. Just. So. Tired. I had a plan, and I had my goodbyes written out, and it was just time to go. Something compelled me to lay down on my bed before I left the house though. I really just wanted to feel my pillow against my face one last time. I stretched out on top of my covers and felt the coolness of the pillow on my face. I felt Audrey jump up onto the bed. She was never a particularly light girl, and her little stiletto feet made it impossible for her to tread with any degree of stealth. I felt her walk up the left side of me, and she plunked herself by my hip in her usual fashion. But today, instead of curling up into the ball she usually did, she laid her chin on my hip, gave out her little "wow" meow, and began purring her loud, breathy purr that will forever be etched into my memory. In that moment, it became clear that I was not meant to go anywhere. That there is kindness in the world, even if you have to find that kindness and honesty among animals. That there was a creature whose entire existence was better because I had been part of it.

I stayed. So did she, for 5 more years. In March of 2019, I learned that she had pancreatic cancer. During the exploratory surgery I had done for her to determine if she could be saved, the vet called me and said it would be cruel to wake her again, it was too advanced. It is then that I had to let her go. No goodbyes, no final hugs, no wow meows for us to exchange. Just gone.

A couple of years prior to Audrey getting sick, I had taken an interest in unusual behaviours and illnesses in cats, especially in neonatal kittens. There are a lot of things people tell you that can't be done with cats and kittens, and I'm the kind of person who, if you say it can't be done, I'll figure out how to prove you wrong. By the time Audrey passed, I had been fostering for an organization that offered very little support for their fosters and was paying for medical treatments for my fosters out of my own pocket. The thanks I was getting was having the Director of that shelter gossip viciously and call my own vet the r-word for being willing to try treatments to save these little ones that she was so casual about giving up on and euthanizing. It was at that point that I decided to open Audrey's League for Wayward Animals Yearning for Safety. I knew enough people who were as passionate about animals as I am, who simply don't give up on them because it's hard. We are a group of oddballs, a vet tech, a groomer, a pair of mechanics, a pet store employee with a semi-internet famous special needs kitty, and a head shop employee. We formed in August and by December we had a kitten with a massive hernia, a deaf kitten, a "problem child" cat (who is simply too smart for his own good) and his best friend the shy guy, 4 bottle babies who had barely made it, a bearded dragon, some fish, a couple of guinea pigs, and a rabbit.

During our first board meeting, one of our board members was still fostering for the shelter I had had a horrible experience with, and one of the queens began to give birth. The first kitten was born and the queen had not removed the baby's sac, so I did so and, upon failing to perceive breath, blew my own breath into her so she wouldn't die. She was named Audrey (and referred to after that as Baby Audrey) and I avoided her because my heart was still so raw from the loss of my own Audrey.

One night there wasn't a choice though. I got a call from the foster saying Baby Audrey was not doing well. She was fading. I packed up my fading kitten gear and raced over to my friend's house, where I spent the night making sure this little one made it. I did this for more than one of those fosters, because much as I took issue with the shelter, those babies didn't deserve to die just because the Director was too prideful to educate herself or offer support. Once Baby Audrey was stable, we went about life as usual. Then she faded again. And then, to top everything that had happened, the shelter sent a kitten who they knew had been exposed to and might be sick with panleukopenia. Panleuk is generally considered to be fatal, with a "positive outlook" survival rate reportedly only at 50%. Of course, because what brand new rescue doesn't need a pandemic, right? But we were up to the task, and of the cats that remained in our care, 100% of them survived the infection, including Baby Audrey.

Baby Audrey is now known as Ruby, and she lives with me. She isn't Audrey, but she is my little miracle. And in a way, just as Audrey saved me that day, she also saved Ruby and all of the other fosters I have cared for.

Thank you Audrey. Your time with us was too short, but you taught me so much. You taught me that there is perfect love, there is trust, there is always a reason to be soft and to stay put.

More info: alwaysanimalrescue.ca

After Audrey passed away, my oldest daughter conspired with Tess Diamond to paint this, a moving portrait of miss Audrey based on a photo I had captured of her being truly silly with a scarf.