"LETTER TO A CAT GONE HOME"
[28/2/2025]We met a neighbour in our apartment building a few months ago who, by chance, needed someone to take care of her cat for a few days while she was out of town. The usual list of stuff: "feed the cat twice a day, give her some treats and wet food with dinner, play with her if you can, and pick up whatever she knocked over."
I'd only met her once, my fiance twice. I thought it funny how quickly she trusted us to give us the key and let us nose around in her apartment without supervision. To take care of a precious pet cat in the time she was gone, her angel. Bibi, the black cat with a smoker's voice, greeted us warmly and somehow knew we were there for catering. A big cat; not the biggest cat, but enough to know she was well-fed.
The first day we accidentally fed her dinner for breakfast and breakfast for dinner as the instructions were penned in the opposite way by accident... which we would've noticed if we paid attention to the big arrows next to the words "DINNER" and "BREAKFAST" on the card our neighbour left on the counter. We let her eat at her own pace, and she let us pet her while she snacked. Refilling the water, then staying for a moment, we eventually said goodbye.
We brought over a string one night to play with her on the carpet. She scrambled around trying to catch this red string of yarn joyfully, as a cat does when on the prowl. Still a good age, about six. Another night, she had puked while we were gone on the part of the entryway carpet runner that's hardest to clean off (of course), the little strings on the short ends. We cleaned up and sat with her to make sure she was okay, and she purred contentedly.
Our neighbour may have miscommunicated about what days we'd be feeding her, or maybe she just spent an extra day out of town. I think one of us misplaced her phone number too, so we just hoped it was fine or that she'd leave a message on her home phone. Either way, she didn't come and pick up the key on the agreed-upon time, so we just made sure to go down and keep Bibi fed until she came back. She happily ate every morning and every night. A soft, yet professional demeanor; what more can be said about a black cat, so intense in her presence, yet so kind in her whole being?
Since then, we've been exchanging baked goods and smiles every week, saying hello to Bibi when we drop off treats to her, and her saying hello to our cats when she brings treats to us. It's a strange kindness... she's elderly and retired, and we're twenty-somethings, a whole river of experience between us. Yet she's a friend to us now, some way, somehow.
I saw her in the lobby one day during the cold snap this last month. She was bundled up and looking outside for her ride to show up, and Bibi was in a nice kennel and meowing with the solemn "mew!" of a cat that doesn't know exactly where they're going to go in this box, but might assume it'll probably be a long ride to a vet clinic. I said hello, and asked if everything was okay. She said "it's Bibi, she's been having some issues lately... I'm worried she's gettin' too fat!" I waved to Bibi and told her not to worry, then stood back up to talk some more to the neighbour. Then she saw her taxi and said goodbye, and probably didn't hear me ask if she needed a hand carrying anything, or just needed someone to come with.
My fiance came home to me a couple days ago, and he said to me with a frown, "I have bad news... if you'd like to hear. Bibi has passed away. Our neighbour said it was something to do with her body filling up with too much excess fluid. There wasn't much to be done." Turns out that time I saw her down in the lobby was the last time I would ever see her.
We stopped by later that night because she had offered to give us the cat toys and the cat tree right away, as well as all the other bits and bobs one needs to take care of a cat. She'd already gathered up all of Bibi's spare things, quickly letting go and passing it on to someone who needed it, to our cats who would love to sit on the wobbly tree and play with the scrunchy butterfly toy.
When we talk to her, our conversations are short, but certainly not curt; they're sweet little chats. Even then, she was quick to chat. But she said to both of us, "give me a hug," and we both gave her a separate embrace. Beyond that, it was private and brief grieving between us. I've had to say goodbye to a cat, a sweetheart, an angel, before. I didn't go into it because I didn't need to, and I think she understood just as well.
Goodbye, Bibi. Rest easy.
Bibi is good
Bibi is loved
Her voice quiet and strong
Her tone firm but loving
With the drawl of the countryside
With the roughness of gravel
Has the tone of a calm night
Has the voice of an angel
Just like her caretaker
Just like her home
And our paths crossed briefly
And our paths split apart
But Bibi was good
But Bibi is gone