born. March 2001
adopted. March 2002
passed. December 2014
• Honorary bachelor and master degree holder (hey when you sit through that much homework with your mom, you’ve earned it)
• Queen of the silent meow
• Champion stuffed mousey hugger
• Godmother of the “Kitteh Mafia”
• Expert biscuit maker, arm licker, cat box bury-er, and hand holder
• Not-so-expert jumper, runner, or chaser
• Professional mover living in Arizona, Colorado and Nevada
• American super model
• International cat negotiator
• Two time breast cancer survivor
• Arizona Wildcat fan – of course!
Lila was my first cat. I adopted her in March 2002 in Tucson, AZ. She was 1, and I had just turned 27. We were two wild and crazy single ladies.
Lila Belle was her given name by the rescue and was too pretty to change. She came from the county shelter, and they did not have any information about her; she simply was a stray and the rescue group had taken her into their care as her time was ending at the shelter, which in hindsight is always such a striking reality that our lives together might have never been! Rescue groups are so amazing…
I had seen Lila over 2 or 3 weekends at a Petsmart by my apartment - one of the many stores the rescue group used to show their animals available for adoption since they were all in foster homes. I was there every weekend picking up goods for my sweet trio of guinea pigs, and I always stopped to see the rescue "children."
She was one of many cats available, but was getting lots of 'ooohs' and 'ahhhs' as she was the only kitty in a quilted cube inside her cage. Lila hated being at adoptions - noise was not her thing, so her foster mom had sewn a cube with a porthole in the front for her to snuggle in while showing off her beautiful Maine Coon face.
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| The most perfect color nose! |
The weekend I adopted her, I had gone to Petsmart and said to myself, "If that cat in the cube is still here, I think I have to have her." I was nervous going through the store wondering if she was there and what I would really do if she was.
As I made my way to the back of the store, I couldn't get there fast enough, but also hesitated wondering what my final decision would be. As I pushed my cart to where the group's cages were displayed, my heart was pounding. I turned the corner to the last aisle, and there perched in the top cage was the yellow quilted cube with my Lila.
"Uh oh..."
Her description tag hanging outside the cage said it all, "...wouldn't hurt a fly." I needed a cat that wouldn't go after my guinea pigs, but I was still nervous wondering if this was the right decision. Was I ready to care for such a "big" animal? (That statement seems so ironic now given I have a 69 pound Golden Retriever).
Growing up I only had parakeets, some goldfish, a rabbit and a turtle. And I had just gotten into the realm of guinea pigs at the time... My best friend had cats though when we were kids (I even kind of had a cat at her house named Tom), so I figured I could call my friend for “new cat” help if I needed it.
I must have been intently staring at the cage for a bit with all of these arguments going through my head because one of the volunteers walked over and said, "Would you like to pet her?" (Thank God for volunteers.) It shook me out of my trance, but before I managed to say "sure," she opened the cage. (Again Thank God for volunteers.)
Lila sunk deeper into her cube.
The volunteer said it would be ok to just pet her inside the cube. And within 4 seconds, Lila and I bonded.
I must have stood there for half an hour petting her as customer after customer said, "Awww, look at her in that cute little quilted cube!" Finally, the volunteer asked how it was going, and I said well and proceeded to tell her about my guinea pigs. She really thought Lila would be a great fit, but said she'd call the foster family to find out for sure.
I figured ok, they'll put Lila on hold for a few days until they find out, then give me a call, we’re probably looking at one more week… but no! The volunteer was on her cell phone with the foster mom before I knew what was happening! And mind you, cell phone use in 2002 wasn’t like it is today, so that took me by surprise. The foster mom said she didn't think there would be any issue, but there was one catch - I couldn't have the cube!
A few forms later and $60 (can you believe the greatest things in life are under $100?), I had my Lila Belle. I left Lila in the safety of her cube as I ran around and bought the essentials, including a new quilted cube with two portholes! I told the volunteer I was going to run everything home, get some things set up and then I'd be back.
When I returned, Lila's foster mom had come to pick up the cube but gave me another little quilted bed she had made. I thought that was really sweet, but then I wondered if the foster mom was sad to say good-bye. I can only imagine how bitter sweet it is to be a foster parent, and obviously she loved Lila very much just by the way she paid attention to Lila's needs.
Compared to the cats I adopted after Lila, the car ride home was pretty quiet! She immediately ran for cover behind the toilet when we arrived home. She remained skittish for a while slinking behind things and eating her kibble in the middle of the night when I was asleep. We slowly started to bond though through the ritual of brushing. Lila had a beautiful coat, but it was very dry when I adopted her. Stress and shelter life often does that to an animal.
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| The evening Lila came home. So dry and skinny! |
Lila bonded well with the piggies too, trying to groom them from time to time. They didn't really like that, but they would often get her when she fell asleep on the floor. They'd run by and nip at her tail, and then run off and pretend they were never there. It was a special bond and quite humorous to see…
Lila blossomed a lot in that little apartment. Her coat got shiny, she got fluffy, and she was spoiled as she should have been getting every awesome toy, bed or mat at PetSmart.
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| Lila and my first piggie Harriet |
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| The piggie trio of Harriet, Chestnut & Maggie. |
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| 2003 Super Model |
She ended up with her own chair with a bed on it, and would sleep belly up in while I did homework. She’d crawl into bed with me and hug my arm at night. She loved to sit in the living room window on the back of the couch and howl at the stray cat that used to come to my balcony (ok, that wasn’t so fun at 2am actually and was quite creepy).
She also developed what I would call the “dig-a-hole-to-China” litter box bury that was beyond thorough and sometimes had to be stopped at 4 in the morning because it was like, “Sister – that thing is buried! Move on already.”
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| Yup, I'll be right here if you need help with that math homework. |
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| Our outdoor "friend" who I named Foster. Really belonged to the people downstairs but they didn't take very good care of her. |
It wasn’t too long after I adopted Lila that I met Mr. Man, and let’s face it, Lila was really the deciding factor on if he was gonna stick around. But with a history of family cats, Lila gave him the green flag pretty quickly.
Our relationship meant Lila would have some life changes. Moving to Denver, getting some new feline roommies, saying goodbye to the piggies as they crossed the Rainbow Bridge, moving to Las Vegas, and getting a dog roommie. And she took them all in stride.
Going with the flow was her specialty. We often referred to her as the Switzerland of the “Kitteh Mafia” or “Tiny Kitty Gang” as she was always keeping the peace and brushing everything off. She didn’t like to wrestle or rough house and would rather spend her time in sun puddles.
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| Sun puddles still work even if it's only for your head. |
Lila loved to lay on my hands and arms when we go to sleep, and sometimes she’d sleep on my stomach or crawl in my lap when we're watching television. Near the end, she sat on Mr. Man a lot. I think he was a better heat source.
She’d hug just about anything - remote controls, my eyelash curler, toys, people. (However, she never hugged another cat.) Not sure if it was a sign of affection or just a claim that all the stuff was hers cause she was first.
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| If you think you're changing the channel - you should think again. |
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| Don't worry, I totally know what I am doing here... |
The other cats (and Mr. Man) knew it very clearly that she was my favorite, so they just accepted it. Of course, I love all of our pets (and Mr. Man) for very different reasons because they all have different stories and personality traits, but they were smokin’ crack if they thought they could take the top spot.
Lila followed me everywhere, doing bunny hops down our stairs in sync with me, and she was usually with me if I was up late at night or sick. She also let me pick her up and carry her quite often. She always loved a good chin brushing, but wasn’t so happy when I had to deal with a mat.
During her life, she was diagnosed with feline breast cancer and bravely faced surgery twice. Feline breast cancer usually has a low survival rate, but thanks to an amazing vet, the surgeries were a complete success, and she became a cancer survivor beating serious odds – like many years beyond the odds.
When she was first diagnosed with her breast cancer, I was devastated because there was truly no one who understood me like she did (weird to say I know), and it really didn’t seem like her time. For most of her life, I felt that I could always face what was in my life as long as I had her. And that may have been the hardest thing to work through as she got closer to passing – that I was going to have to live my life without her and face what was to come "alone". Talk about a gut check in courage!
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| After Lila's second surgery, the recovery was a little rough. |
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Now I’m even more grateful she had so much more time with us because I feel like she got a full shot at life, and at nearly 14, she got some golden senior years. Would I have loved for it to be more like 18 or 19? Of course. It sucks that it appears the “big C” did end the story as our vet suspected gastro lymphoma at the end, but I love that she gave cancer the friendly Lila middle finger a few times. Her mama taught her that Italian sign language.
She may have been easy going, but she was independent and determined – don’t doubt that! Probably more like her mother than her or I would like to admit…
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| I already took this class - good luck lady. |
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| Yes, osmosis is real. |
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| Does this guy actually think this is a real publication? |
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| Please turn on some episodes of Boy Meets World. Thanks! |
I won’t get into the final days of her life, but she did enjoy a few trips out to the grassy backyard, time in sun puddles, and lots of cuddles. The night she passed, she laid on me and had her head on my heart. I felt good that she could listen to it like a new born kitten does lying on its mom.
She typically spent a lot of time upstairs, but had taken up residence in the living room the last month or so, which was nice because she was around us all the time.
After she passed and I reflected on her life, I could really see that the true Lila had probably faded well before her physical passing. Sometimes I wonder if I hadn’t been so focused on our puppy Grace would I have seen the signs earlier, but in the end, it wouldn’t have mattered. If she had the cancer that our vet suspected, there wasn’t a lot we could have done at her age.
And I have to give big points to Grace. She was pretty amazing with Lila and seemed to look out for her. And Lila seemed to gravitate towards her from time to time. Maybe it was the body heat since Grace is like an inferno or maybe she was just giving Grace some lectures on how to take care of me once she was gone…either way, the relationship of my first cat and my first dog was a gift.
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| Lady, this cat is telling me thing about you that may lead to bacon blackmail in the future... |
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| Hey dog, take care of our mom. She's not too bad even though she has A LOT of rules... ;) |
There’s definitely a hole right now without her presence, and when I laid down to sleep on the night of December 9th, after her passing, my heart physically hurt so bad I couldn’t sleep (and when you’re almost 40 yourself you start wondering, does this chest pain require a trip to the E.R.?) I don’t know how any buries a human child because that’s exactly what it felt like I had just done.
The morning after was rough, so many little things would trigger the waterworks (and writing this has not had me well composed). My home office being a big one. I could always count on her being there when I studied or worked. She always had a chair and bed in my office. When I get her ashes and her custom urn (which is stunning), it will go in my home office.
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| Lila's urn from Alex in Welderland www.custompeturns.com |
There will never be another Lila Belle, but it doesn’t mean there won’t be another adventure. Lila was a shelter rescue, and she would want us to give another cat in need her seat at the Kitteh Mafia table. Besides, the Tiny Kitty Gang can’t go down a member, they’ve got to keep up their sinister plans against the dog.
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| Mafia Meetings |
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| "So do you think she knows we're plotting against the dog?" |
As for the cube I bought the day she was adopted? She never got into it when I brought her home. It sat empty most of the time (two of our other cats would sometimes use it in Denver), but Lila really never used it much until just recently. As her health declined, the cube was her sanctuary, and she was in it constantly.
(Oddly enough, I don't have any photos of her in it... maybe because I photographed her living her life instead of retreating from it, because she definitely enjoyed every day!)
Life goes full circle (or cube) I guess...
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| Paw prints I took the morning of her passing. |
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| March 2001 - December 2014 |
*All images belong to this blog and are not approved for use or copy*
