We lost Athena on Wednesday.
That morning we weren’t woken up by her meowing at the door at 6am. That morning she wasn’t sitting on Roger’s chest meowing in his face to get up and feed her. That morning she wasn’t under our feet meowing for breakfast in the kitchen. That morning she wasn’t fighting Max for floor space in the kitchen to meow for food in that adorable young smokers meow of hers. She never came running for her bowl, we had to keep it up on the counter so Max wouldn’t eat it on her.
Two nights ago when we went to sleep she was snoozing on the office chair, her claimed space since the day we brought her home just over two years ago. After she’d finished playing with the catnip banana.
In the morning she was gone. Not hiding. Jupiter hides. He disappears and we find him in a nook somewhere. He can’t be tempted out with food, he grazes and doesn’t care much for gluttony. Athena was gone.
Is it time to eat?Athena won’t miss a drop of wet food in her bowl, be constantly snacking from the dry bowl with every pass, and never misses an opportunity to meow at us to let us know the bottom of that bowl is semi-visible. It’s not like her to be absent for breakfast.
After a few hours of waiting and searching the property we hunted outside. Searching the graveyard on the next street, an orchard with lots of trees to hide in, every property nearby she could have bolted too.
Eventually Roger found her, on a corner lot not far away, laying in the grass. She was dead for a long time. First thoughts on seeing a cat’s body laying in the grass were no no NO NO NO NO NO NO NO. Not her no. Please don’t be her.
Her tortoise shell colouring, long hair, and the flea collar all matched and the denial collapsed.
She had used the rebar supports from the construction to climb out of the property and explore. She was an adventurer and had little fear.
He brought her home wrapped in his t-shirt. She loved sleeping on our clothes.
When Roger walked through the door carrying Athena, Malena had hoped she was still alive, injured, wet and dirty. Still warm and fuzzy from laying out in the sun, Malena started sobbing while cuddling her dead body.
She was the forgiving baby sister of two grumpy cats. No matter how much grief Max and Jup gave her, she always laid down her own law with them. She was as quick to forgive them and cuddle as she was to fight back when they were being jerks to her.
For all the fighting her and Max did it was like siblings. They always came around.
Just last December we watched as Eddy, Malena’s family dog, drifted away after deciding it was best to euthanize him. He was an old dog, lived over 13 years being spoiled. It was painful but we accepted it.
Losing Athena was a hard hit. Our hearts broke. She was a baby and still had so much to see. Her death wasn’t a pretty one. She was adventurous and died being like that. We had already decided that when we move back to Canada she’d be the only one we’d take back.
Two days later and it still hurts so much. Her absence is instantly noticeable. Even Max and Jup, the following morning followed Roger around looking in every room and nook trying to find her. They hadn’t really put together her absence with her smell when we brought her home.
Athena came to us as a kitten in a cold February Family Day weekend. Malena’s mother Teresa found her the week before outside her building in -20c weather and got her a nook inside to stay warm and fed. We named her Athena because she was always chill, but with enough annoyance usually from Max she’d go into battle mode and take no shit.
“Athena was portrayed as having a calm temperament, and moving slowly to anger. She was believed to only fight for just causes and never fight without a purpose” ~Loewen, Nancy (1998). Athena Greek and Roman Mythology.
When we were introduced, on Family Day, she came sauntering out to greet us covered in paint and happy as anything. We immediately fell in love with her, even though a little hesitant as we already had two cats to care for but we took her home anyway.
She stayed in the carrier for almost an hour after we opened the door. Eventually she came out and immediately claimed that catnip-filled banana and started playing with it. Even as Max and Jup were hissing at a distance, she didn’t give a shit. Welcome home you amazing attitude problem!
She was a beautiful furball with a mountain of personality and eyes that would suck you in and make you do her bidding. Where most cats seemingly have only a few meows for every occasion, Athena had an entire vocabulary between her meows and expressions. You could always tell what she was asking or saying from her tone and the look in her big gorgeous eyes. Playtime? Gotcha. Food? Gotcha. Massage? Gotcha. More food? Gotcha. Tali/Max/Jup is pissing me off. Gotcha.
If Roger was playing video games sitting in her computer chair she’d meow and meow and meow and it was always her annoyed meow. She wouldn’t stop until Roger actually got up and switched to a folding chair and gave the computer chair to her where she’d curl up and purrrrrrrr even in her sleep. Her purr was so soothing. She used to chase this long fuzzy tail toy thing around and around and around, waiting for it to disappear just around the corner before charging after it like she was trying to sneak attack it.
We’ve run over a few gazillion theories on how she died. She was in bad shape and her fur looked matted and wet. Afraid she was injured from a fall climbing over our wall and wet from crawling through dew covered weeds, afraid she was hit by a car, afraid of a lot of things. But the more we think about it, the more we thought about how we found her and the condition of her fur the more it makes sense that she was killed by a large dog.
We were afraid of a lot of things. That she died slowly and painfully alone and cold while we slept. She had little fear in her. As a kitten barely a quarter the size of Max she took him on when he tried to establish himself, and she backed him into the closet fearing for his life. He even put a claw in her nose and she still came at him completely undaunted, that warning shot only pissed her off more. She’s never shown a wisp of fear of Tali who is a giant in comparison and her most usual place was standing (laying really) guard at our bedroom door.
Sadly this brazen attitude is what we figure got her in the end. She climbed over the wall, ever the explorer and likely came across a stray dog in the early hours and stood her ground, and went down fighting as she always did. She wasn’t the type to run. Her way was to hunker down, and make the other animal leave first.
We planned nooks into the hostel for the cats to climb and hide in, cozy and safe places, boxes high on walls, lots of steps to jump on and reach those high places. We had planned for Athena to be a part of this and now sadly she’ll never get to enjoy them with Max and Jup.
We had so many nicknames for the little bugger:
pancake, porklet, miss pee pee pants, furry butt, pants, warrior princess, fuzzy butt, miss thing, miss picky
She was like Sasha from Attack on Titan, always always always eating.
She enjoyed her food, her space, and adventuring. She died an adventurers death. We hope she went down fighting, and that it was also quick. No animal should suffer.
There will be no more scars on Roger’s arms from her playful bunny kicks, no more long hair getting all over our clothes, no more tripping on her in the kitchen when she wants more food, no more meows at 6am to get off our asses and get her breakfast, no more of her purring while making muffins in our blankets, no more finding her in any open dresser drawer sleeping on our clothes, and no more rolling her around on the computer chair. The place feels a little too quiet now.
Hers was a short life, she was still a baby in our eyes only being a few years old, but she packed a lot of catness into it and made a huge impact on our lives. She explored her world any way she could, gave fights and cuddles and mediation in equal measure, and managed to always make us smile even when she was being a complete brat. She’d make a huge mess of any catnip we gave her.
We buried her in his shirt and with a full bowl of kibble in the back yard. Hoppy Alpaca will remain the name of the hostel. But the brewery will be named after Athena.
Her grave site will be at the front of the future brewery, and we’ll start a garden there. She loved hiding in the tall weeds and grass and chasing butterflies.
See you over the rainbow bridge our little furry pancake porkchop warrior. We will always miss you.
Athena at the Apartment
Athena at the House
Final home
