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Memoirs: Cats that have changed our lives

by Linda Joyce

Created on: January 06, 2009   Last Updated: July 21, 2009

When it began, it was obvious it was more serious than a cold or flu. During the night, coughing spasms racked my body, leaving me gasping for air. I felt as though someone was sitting on my chest.

A week later, the doctor diagnosed pneumonia but did not want to hospitalize me. He asked if I had anyone to look in on me. My only daughter lived up north and couldn't take time off from her new job, and my sister, two states away, likewise, could not come.

There were my two very loyal intelligent cats, though. He just nodded as he wrote my prescriptions.

My would-be angels of mercy were Sydney, an aloof female Lynx Point Siamese, a beautiful cat adopted years before from the Humane Society; and a rough-and-ready black tomcat named Spohnky who had a broken tail and torn ears, the result of a fight or two on the streets before I rescued him.

They were my immediate family and we all lived happily together in my small apartment. Nothing eventful ever happened until this.

I was not ready for the havoc pneumonia plays with the body. For weeks, I remained in bed all day after getting up in the morning only to go to the bathroom and fix a simple breakfast. As quickly as possible, I'd find my way back to bed where I intermittently coughed and slept for hours on end.

In such a weakened condition, I was able to shower only once every three or four days. Washing my hair was too great an undertaking to even contemplate. I was miserable because I felt dirty and greasy, but the cats didn't seem to mind.

I would wake up at the end of the day when the light was fading to realize that my two faithful fur buddies were there on either side of me, like bookends, still watching over me.

They never complained if I was late with their food, but just lay beside me, watching. If I got up, they got up. When I got back into bed, they got back into bed.

Spohnky was used to falling asleep each night on my chest. Obviously, with my breathing problems, that wouldn't do. He must have understood because he didn't once try to climb up. Instead, he just ducked under the covers, where he would stay epoxied to my side.

Likewise, Sydney, who was used to sleeping on my legs, knew instinctively that she shouldn't because I was so ill. Like Spohnky, she refrained but kept as close by me as possible.

I visited the doctor each week. It was December, and the weather was cold and windy. Upon arriving home, I always found my two nurses sitting side by side, having waited anxiously for their patient

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