Sad story time:
In 2021 I was living with my good friend and partner at the time, Anna, in a house that we didn't like, having survived what we thought would be the worst of the pandemic. Anna wanted to adopt a cat, as she had always had pets growing up - something which I had not. She found Zaza on the RSPCA website and was instantly smitten - a 13 year old burmese that had just arrived.
I remember going to finally meet Zaza after a tense month-long wait as she recovered from cat flu. I sat on the floor of the room and Zaza walked over and climbed in my lap. She came home with us that day. I remember sceptically saying to Anna that Zaza would be "her" cat, and she was not allowed to sleep on the bed. I woke up an hour after falling asleep to Zaza resting peacefully in that pocket between the pillow and my shoulder, with her chin upon my neck. After 3 nights of trying to remove her, and her returning as soon as I fell asleep again, I learned to sleep like this. Much to Anna's dismay, this is where she preferred to sleep, and if forced to sleep with Anna, she would escape as soon as Anna fell asleep and come over to my side of the bed.
If you stirred in the night, she would lick your face to calm you down. She thought of us as her kittens, and in cat terms, she was surely our senior by far. She was always well-behaved and composed, as a distinguished cat should be. She had a favourite stool in the kitchen where she would observe us patiently and quietly. She was the matriarch of the house.
I fell in love with Zaza (Zub as I would often call her). She kept me company while I worked. She climbed inside my dressing gown to stay warm, with her head poking out to watch the screen. She sat as close to the heater as she could, sometimes dangling so far off the chair she was on that she fell off in her sleep. I would give her a bit of ham every time I made a sandwich - a routine she enjoyed and respected. The only time she tried to take my food was a very rare occasion that I brought home some fried chicken - I had never seen her so determined.
As we all know, 2021 was not an easy year. I struggled with the job I had, I felt lonely and isolated, I felt cramped in a house I didn't like. Zaza was a definite highlight in this house, and a reliable source of joy. When I was allowed to go to work, I would delight at seeing Zub's face in the window as I pulled into the driveway, which was a relief after a day of stress, and a tearful drive home. This was probably the lowest point in my life until then, and Zaza was a glimmer of hope, a small spark of joy that kept me going.
In 2022, Anna and I moved into separate places, and then eventually broke up. I moved into a place by myself that felt empty, compounding with the distance of my friends into a crushing loneliness. A month after we split, Anna headed away on a regional placement, and I asked her if I could look after Zaza - which she happily agreed to. I cried the whole car ride home with Zaza in the back of the car (she hated the car).
For the month that Zaza stayed with me, I didn't feel lonely. She was there every night by my side. She knew when I was upset and she would lick my forehead, caring for me in the only way she knew how. The house was full of life when I came home from work.
Eventually, Zaza went home with Anna. Eventually, Anna and I became friends. I would drop by to visit quite often, and every time I would make sure to give Zaza a big hug and a kiss on the top of her head. I nearly cried every time, as she was an old cat and I never knew if this would be the last time I saw her. When groups of people were over, she would still prefer my lap which made me feel smug but also loved.
Last year Anna threw an 18th birthday party for Zub. She had a special treat buffet of smoked salmon, ham, a saucer of milk, and her favourite toy (a small bouncy soccer ball) all set out for her. This cat was LOVED. She was adored by Anna, and all of her housemates. Everyone loved her, and we all turned up to celebrate.
I visited Zaza earlier this year - I didn't see her much at all these days, you know how life gets. She was definitely getting old now. She didn't want to be away from a heater or blanket. She was getting small and frail, and she was very twitchy after having had a seizure a few months prior. When she came out into the lounge room and curled up on my lap I cried.
This week, Anna called me with bad news about Zub's health, and told me that she was going to have to be put-down the following day. It felt silly, but also I knew I wanted nothing more than to be there with her. When I arrived at Anna's house, Zaza was on her heat mat (which she wasn't allowed recently due to sitting on it so long she developed sores), next to the heater, with some ham and milk waiting for her. I sat on the floor next to her. I gave her a treat. I scratched her chin. At the vet, I asked to hold her one last time, I whispered in her ear that I loved her, and kissed her on the forehead. The room full of her closest friends all said goodbye.
19 years is a damn good life.
I always described her (and will continue to) as the world's tiniest angel.
That night I saw a shooting star - I choose to believe this tiny angel is still looking over me.
When she was staying with me, I lay awake one night, unable to sleep. I remember trying to come up with a silly song to sing to Zaza. I wasn't any good at songwriting then, but I remember being quite pleased with the little ditty I had largely improvised.
Sadly, I can't remember this now, so instead I wrote something new. (DADAC#E tuning for future reference)
sandpaper tongue
you had nine and I have one
I had to learn to sleep
without you on my neck
who was looking after who
who did you rescue
I kept a box you sat in once
in my house for eighteen months
I've been saying my goodbyes
for now four years
who was looking after who
who did you rescue
you felt the love
in that room
sure as we feel
your absence
she's gonna miss you
who was looking after who
who did you rescue
2026 CC Attribution Noncommercial No Derivative Works (BY-NC-ND)
