Claire came into our lives 17 years ago when we lived in Corpus Christi, TX. I was walking home from a friend’s house and out of no-where, up walks this crème torbi, sweet, and chatty, rubbing up against my legs, circling my ankles. I was sure another feline was not in our future as Kittle and Tex certainly would not welcome a new friend into their home. She followed me all the way home, talking the entire time.

A New Friend
When I reached down to offer her my hand to smell and to pet her, I found she was skinny beyond good health and her ears were infected with mites. She was in rough shape despite her demeanor. I knew I had to help her.
Her personality was soft, sweet, cuddly and she never met a stranger she didn’t like. She was different than any cat Rob and I had ever known. She was beautiful beyond compare with hazel eyes that beamed with purity, wisdom and love and a coat that was soft as silk. She was a lap cat, seeking out the warmest available or cuddling tight, snuggling throughout the night or during a nap.

A Friend to Everyone
As friends and family got to know her, her personality stood out amongst our other cats… she was an extravert in every sense, always making new friends. Claire was gregarious, personable, kind, and sweet, although demanding if fish showed up at the house. We suspect while she was a stray, she hung out at the fish docks near our home as fishermen brought in their catch and cleaned the fish. Her love of fish never waned.
Although Claire was an indoor cat, we’d go on long walks together around the house, where she’d take in her surroundings, even coming nose to nose with a deer a few times. She had a patch of tall grass she loved to chew on from time to time. She’d hang on out on the front porch with us, basking in the sunshine, telling us how she’d love to catch that bird over there in the Douglas Fir (of course, we’d never let that happen). She loved her guided outside time.


A Night Owl
Claire was a night owl. She was an expert at waking us up if her food supply was low or she just wanted a chin scratch or two. Blind banging was just one of her preferred methods of making us crazy. She’d do this until we threw socks or yelled. If that method didn’t get us out of bed, she’d meow and carry on, wondering from one side of the bed to the other. The water bottle didn’t deter her either. Instead of leaving the room upon being sprayed, she got on up in the bed, with her wet fur to cuddle, which made us crazy, but it also made us laugh.
She finally wised up and would set further than the water bottle sprayer could reach, chatting and carrying on. Her tactics changed several times and I finally decided all of this was not worth the effort and started getting up for her when she first demanded it. It was worth it, because generally, she’d let us sleep after refilling her food bowl, although I gave her the boot a few nights and locked her out of the bedroom. Now I wish I hadn’t.
Every spring and throughout summer she’d wake us up as the sun came up, asking for the back door to be opened. This was one of her favorite places to bask as the sunlight streamed in. We’d put her sleeping pad in the doorway and she’d snooze there most of the morning, lanky legs sprawled out, tail swaying, sleeping and occasionally raising her head up to see what was going on around her.

Our Best Feline Friend was in Trouble
Perhaps the most profound part of her life was when she was diagnosed with kidney disease. This is when we discovered the depth of love we had for her and her for us. It was October 2012; Claire’s appetite was waning, then, she stopped eating altogether.
We rushed her to our vet’s office where a simple blood test determined she was in kidney failure. Not knowing anything about this, we were devastated and scared, thinking the worst. We were told she’d need to spend at least three days in the intensive care unit at the vet hospital where she’d receive intravenous fluids. We admitted her. I’m sure it was a scary time for her, but she did incredibly well, began to recover, and started eating again.
While she was in the hospital, I researched everything I could about kidney failure, in order to help our sweet girl. I joined an online support group for helping me better understand and manage this diagnosis. I couldn’t have managed without them.
Learning How to Support Claire
In retrospect, I wish our vet had called kidney failure, kidney disease. Failure is scary and sounds like death is near. Disease tells me it’s something that can be managed. To our relief we learned kidney disease can be managed and extend life for many years post diagnosis.
What did this mean, managing kidney disease? One of the most important things we needed to do for Claire was to keep her hydrated because kidney disease dehydrates. We were told we needed to give her subcutaneous fluids at least 3x per week. This meant we were to insert a 1” needle into her skin, subcutaneously, and give her 100 mL of lactated ringers. It looks like the IV bags you see at the hospital. The vet told us this would take about 5 minutes per session. Our vet showed us how to do it… she made it look easy.
Administering fluids proved challenging at first. We weren’t sure if it would ever work. But with patience, practice, support and diligence, we succeeded. We’d set her up on an ironing board so that Rob and I could stand on either side of her. After warming her fluids in a heating pad, we hung the fluid bag from the ceiling fan. Rob would insert the needle and monitor the fluids while I finger fed her baby food, which included her other medications. Her favorite baby food was ham; it was the stinkiest.

A New Norm
After about a year of this, Claire started coming to us for her fluids. We figured she knew it made her feel better. At first, she’d jump on the adjacent table and wait to be lifted to the top of the ironing board. After about two years, she started jumping up on the ironing board at her routine time and waited for us to arrive with her warmed fluids and baby food. We never had to carry her to the ironing board again. It was about this time we had to increase her fluids, giving them to her every day.
The disease was a bit roller coaster, but we managed, through therapy and medicines to keep her feeling good and stable up until the last few months of her life. For the duration of her therapy, Rob and I were committed to our best friend. We decided home vet care would be best for her to minimize stress. We switched her food from canned wet and dry to a strictly raw diet, as long as she would accept it, and made sure there was water in multiple places in the house for easy access. She even had a glass on my bed side table. Kidney cats lose their appetite easily, so we often had to bribe her with a little garnish on her food in the form of bonito flakes. There were several times where we’d tweak her medicines or have to increase her fluids due to low hydration levels. Nursing care was a daily activity.

Time to Say Goodby
Over the last several months of her life, we started noticing a steep decline in her energy and interest in food. She was losing weight, becoming weaker and weaker, unable to get comfortable, and losing interest in her favorite things. We knew the time was drawing near where we’d have to say goodbye. We agonized over this for several months, but just by watching her and as difficult as it was, we knew it was time.
Claire ate raw salmon, one of her favorite things on her last day of life, and was in her favorite sunny doorway that Sunday, April 12, 2015, morning. She died there, in her home, surrounded by her forever family, her caring veterinarian, love and gratitude. We buried her next to her sister, Kittle, under the fir trees in our back yard. We surrounded her grave in flowers. Her loss was one of the most difficult things Rob and I have ever endured. It was agonizing.

Her Only Advocate
We miss her terribly. The bond from care taking alone was stronger than we’d ever imagined. From her little grunts, calls, meows, cuddles, waking us up in the middle of the night, to her soft fur, tail swaying while she slept, always running to the door and greeting us upon our return home and her forever reminder to slow down and be still.
I write this in hopes that those who are reading will get their cat’s senior panel done at least once per year starting at the age of 7 years old, to keep an eye on your feline’s kidney values and other essential health markers. Know if you find your cat is in renal failure, much can be done to help your friend. Do not give up hope. If your vet knows little regarding kidney disease, get a second opinion. You are your cat’s only advocate.
Veterinary medicine has advanced in this area of feline health and much is known regarding this disease. Therapy is effective and can save your best friends life. Claire lived a beautiful three and a half years post diagnosis; she was 18 when she passed. We are forever grateful to the support and care she received, as we continued to receive her gifts far longer than we, at first, ever imagined. She was worth every ounce of effort.
Tanya’s Comprehensive Guide to Feline Chronic Kidney Disease is an online support group for pet parents navigating their way through Feline Kidney Disease. It helped us manage Claire through hers and I believe added quality years to her beautiful life.
…love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation ~K Gibran


I just read your tribute to Claire and I am writing this with a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye. What a beautiful memorial to a remarkable cat. I have 6 cats but there is one special girl named Sillycat. She is much like Claire, very social and gregarious with a loving personality. When the time comes I hope that I can author a tribute as wonderful as yours. Thank you for giving us a glimpse of a truly wonderful cat!
Claire was so beautiful & it sounds like she was one of those special cats. I’ve had many many cats, while I loved them all & cannot say that I loved any one over another, there have been a few who stole our hearts. Rusty was one such cat. When my son brought him home from his co-worker, I said ‘NO! Absolutely not!’ I thought the two cats I had adopted, after a dog killed my absolutely precious very special cat, were enough. Rusty was a tiny, filthy & rude orange & white kitten, abandoned with his littermate on a woman’s porch. The shelter was full & this very young woman had to bottle feed them. Being young, she was often late to do those feedings. After Rusty moved in with us, he would protect his little dish of food & threaten to destroy any of our adult cats who came near, spitting, growling & slashing out at the air with his teeny tiny paws. Anyhow, we loved him so much; his head butts, his loyal greeting when we arrived home, his single claw just barely hooking our lip 20 minutes before the alarm went off. He loved to play more than any of our other cats, but he would never retract those deadly sharp claws. Poor Rusty, probably never understood why we all (cats too) were afraid to play ‘You Can’t Get Me’, but he loved to take long hikes & preferred to stay by our side. He was only 11 when he came down with kidney disease. As if we couldn’t bond any closer, we actually loved him so much more deeply as we gave him the subcutaneous fluids. Finally, they weren’t helping & he refused. We respected his wishes. It’s been 3 years & I miss that little guy so very much.Thank you for the story of Claire.
I can only say “I know how much it hurts.” What would the world be like without animal lovers like you and your husband. Every time we have one that goes to the Rainbow Bridge it seems another one shows up shortly thereafter. We’ve had as many as seven at one time… it’s been a year since our last one departed, but in the last few days I’ve seen one hanging out in the woods nearby eating the food we put out for the wild animals…looks like our replacement is here.
Thank you for your kind words, Martha. You’ve brought so many into your home; thank you for that. No doubt your new forest kitty has found her forever home. What a gift. xo
I’m so sorry for your loss but also SO grateful for her life. Not many people understand renal disease in cats and a lot of people are afraid of veterinarians in general, because a lot of diagnosing is guessing when blood work/testing fails. My Angel was diagnosed at only 7 years old with kidney failure, and while I was blessed with only one year with him (subcutaneous fluids, barrage of medicines and special foods, etc) I am happy for every moment I had with him.
I work at an animal rescue where we pull cats and kittens from public kill shelters and adopt them to wonderful families. This story is heartbreaking and heartwarming, and I thank God for people and families like yours in the world.
♡♡♡
Oh Courtney, your note means so much. Yes, yes, so grateful. Oh 7 YO Angel. That’s so young. So grateful too, you had another year with your Angel. It is often a challenging path, kidney disease, for caretakers. But after having two cats with this disease, we’ve somewhat got it down… the treatments and what to expect. It was overwhelming for at least the first year.
Thank you for the work you do in animal rescue. There are so many in need of loving homes. And I know, we will not be without animals for long. Their spirit and heart is so pure… innocent. xxx
a truly heartfelt and beautiful tribute to your dear cat. While some may disagree with me, in my experience the loss of a pet who is so well loved and cared for is akin to losing a close family member or very dear friend. The grief can be so profound and the mourning lasts a long time. Please be gentle with yourselves and allow the time and space to do it. My thoughts go out to you and your pack tonight. When i light the remembrance candle tonight it will be w/ you in mind. take care.
I understand and agree, Jacquine. Thank you for your kind words and care. Your remembrance candle was felt and we are so grateful. Thank you, Jacquine.
So sorry for your loss! Sounds like she had a pretty good life while she was with you and that’s a good thing
Indeed, we had a good life. She was pure joy. Thank you for your sweet note, Christina.
You wrote so beautifully about your special cat. I’ve felt your pain through numerous losses of puppies and dogs throughout the years but could never put my heartache into such beautiful words as you did. Bravo to you and your husband for spending the time with Claire to ensure her good health and to help her live her last years surrounded by such joy and love.
What a beautiful tribute to your kitty. Letting go and saying goodbye is one of life’s most difficult challenges. The sadness is overwhelming, and my heart goes out to you. Thanks for sharing your pain and your joy. Claire kitty was a gift to you, and now to me as well.
Thank you so much Becky. Dear Claire was pure love and such a joy to have in our lives. I miss her every day. Thank you for your kind words. They mean so much.