A Shadow of Darkness Falls

Kmeca has sadly passed away. After weeks of fighting a losing battle and trying to get better, with all of the therapies, drugs and long hours spent at the vet’s, after many ups and downs, too little hope and too much despair, she is finally free from her

exhausted broken body. We tried everything that could be done to help her, she gave it all she had, but our joint efforts simply weren’t enough and the miracle we so strongly hoped for didn't happen. She died peacefully, at her home, surrounded by those who loved her and were by her side until the end, but the once happy place we all lived in is now shrouded in sadness and a deafening silence.

It’s hard to explain how this essentially shy and unobtrusive

kitty girl could have left such a powerful mark on her home and all of her mates, literally on anyone she had ever met. Her loud, distinctive, funny “meow” was unmistakable, her lovely little face with unusually long fangs was absolutely enchanting. Her

character was strong, she was sweet and loving but at the same time somewhat disdainful, decisive and stubborn, easily offended and too touchy sometimes, but forgiving... She was able to charm everyone she met with no effort at all, in spite of not showing

much affection and being so nonchalant and unimpressed. She was unique and very much a one of a kind cat.

Like many black kitties, she didn’t have an easy start to life, as she was thrown down into a manhole together with her two

little sisters when she was just a few hours old. I took them out, soaking wet and dried them with a towel, but I couldn’t find the mother cat, so I kept wandering around the neighborhood for hours looking for her until she finally appeared and took her kittens away one

by one. I hadn’t seen any of them for about six weeks when one evening, all four of them came out of nowhere – a mother cat followed by her kittens, all of them with their little tails held up high.

But where had they been? What had been

happening to them? All three kittens were skinny, full of fleas and had ear mange, so they needed immediate veterinary treatment. They fully recovered and Kmeca’s sisters got adopted soon afterwards but Kmeca was somehow different, it was as if

she had decided at one point that she had already found her forever home. She was following me all through the apartment day and night and didn’t even want to consider separating from me; although I tried to find her a new home, she obviously

disagreed on the matter. She was adopted and returned twice as she behaved so badly each time that she was unbearable – she kept meowing and crying from her hiding places for hours on end until I would arrive (once in the middle of the night) to pick her up.

She had always been delicate, with some skin problems and swollen mammary glands later on but without any serious health issues. Incredibly cuddly and affectionate towards me, she used to shun unfamiliar people and appeared aloof

whenever someone would drop by for a visit, but she would quickly turn into a real love bug when there was no one around. Years were passing by but she hadn’t changed, except for the fact that she had become slightly more inclined to accept new people since we

moved to the shelter.

A few months ago she began to decline slowly, almost unnoticeably and it wasn’t easy to tell what was wrong with her. She was losing weight but her behavior was the same, so her diagnosis of renal

papillary necrosis dropped like a bomb. Medical treatment started immediately and we knew her kidney function was severely compromised but the vet tried everything he could think of to try and reverse the damage. Still in shock and totally horrified,

I could not believe that perhaps the time was coming to say goodbye to my stalwart companion of twelve years…

The rest is known; she had been receiving aggressive IV fluid therapy daily for weeks but her kidneys were failing and the

buildup of toxic waste resulted in symptoms of uremic poisoning, such as loss of appetite and general apathy. She was not in pain, she was constantly seeking my presence, she cuddled and purred, and snuggled with the youngsters which were showering her

with affection and her life seemed to have some quality. Nevertheless, she was getting weaker by the day, her legs were wobbly, she was spending most of her time sleeping and I’m guessing that she was actually getting ready to leave. If love could only have healed her,

she would’ve lived eternally…

When the time came, we both knew. She passed away calmly, dignified, quiet and unafraid and the world grew hollow and darker right after her last breath. I’d been blessed with her love for more than a

decade and I simply can't accept that her larger than life personality could just vanish, or would even need to be reality bound – one way or the other she is still beside me. Whether she runs in the fields of heaven or flies freely exploring new spaces, I’ll be finding

her presence forever, everywhere I look.

There won’t be another kitty like her, ever. Unable to believe that I’ll never see her again, at least not in this lifetime, I’m writing about her in a faint attempt to let all of those who had never met her, but

tried to help her, have a small glimpse of the furry black wonder that was Kmeca. It’s not much easier to describe the indescribable than to bear the unbearable but memories are now all we have to cling to. And yes, I know life must go on and we can cherish

her and love her and never forget her, but at the end of day, she is up there somewhere and we are here and there’s too little comfort in between.