Olivia, 1993 to 2007
On Saturday we came bounding through the door after Jasper was discharged from the hospital to pick-up the shopping list and do a shop. Everyone was excited to see Jasper, and likewise JJ to see them, so there was lots of noise and energy. Sebastian blurted out, "Olivia told me this morning that she MISSED Jasper!" Really we answered back. That’s wonderful.
All the kids are almost trained to remove their shoes upon entering the flat, but today we were only there for a minute to drop off some overnight bags, grab the shopping list and be gone. Shoes ON, everyone. Shoes ON. We’re not staying.
Amidst the noise and commotion Tess saw Olivia on the sofa. Knowing glances were exchanged between Tess & Lita, the latter headed towards the cat. The excitement continued but a few seconds later Lita brushed by Tess and me to say very quietly, "Olivia’s not moving." I pivoted around to see her lying in one of her favourite spots on the sofa near the heater. As inconspicuously as possible I moved towards her, the kids tracking me as I did. Sure enough, she was still, her big gorgeous eyes still open.
We quickly went into "handle it" mode. Kids (quite unsuspecting of what we’d just figured out), Lita and De were sent down to the car to get strapped in and wait for us. I put Olivia’s body into a plastic bag, and then into the nicest shopping bag I could find. (Only the best for my girl.) A few calls were made about how to dispose of the body, legal obligations etc. I taped up the bag, putting it outside the back door. We left for our shopping excursion, returned, kids had lunch, trips down for nap, Seb and I did his homework and then Tess & I had "the talk" with Sebastian.
Sebastian handled it very well (better than me actually). We had known for a while that Olivia was circling the airport in preparation for the grand landing, and had forewarned Seb in the last few weeks that Olivia would not be with us forever. When we broke the news he was upset but seemed to feel a lot better knowing that we believe pets go to Heaven. The Bible doesn’t specifically say that, but I’m not about to debate that here. Considering that the promises and joys of eternal life surpass all expectations (according to The Bible), I am sure that would somehow include or cover off one’s love for a pet. Seb asked where Olivia would go – we explained to the vets. He asked if they would bring her back to life – we said no. Then the heaven discussion took place. He wanted to go to the vet with me. We said no, that wasn’t appropriate. "Okay, I want to go back to watching my video, now."
We originally got Olivia from the SPCA in June 1997. I took her back there knowing they would have the facilities to take care of her body. I walked in and complained she died. "Her warranty was ten years," I said.
Yes, Olivia was my girl. It was June 1997 right before the handover when Tess and I decided to get two cats. We each agreed that one person could choose one cat. Tess chose Cee Cee from the Kowloon SPCA, an energetic kitten. I chose Olivia from the Wanchai SPCA. About four years old, Olivia came from a neglected home and had been in the SPCA cattery three months. We were told this was her last month. The SPCA was running out of room and no one wanted Olivia, even though she was a gorgeous cat with rich, dark colours and big black pads on her paws. We went back a second time when I picked up Olivia in my arms. Olivia looked up into my eyes, made a little goat sound "maaah" and we took her home. I was so happy knowing we’d given this beautiful creature another chance. I wondered if it was life 5, 6, 7?
Considering that juncture in our lives it was probably incredibly irresponsible of Tess and me to get cats. Who knew how long we’d be in Hong Kong, or where we would go next. We made a pact that we would stick with the cats "until death do us part." There would be no second homes for either Cee Cee or Olivia – they were with us for life. I recall at the time thinking, "that probably means we’re staying in Hong Kong a while" considering the hassle it is to relocate animals to other countries. That thought was one of the bombs that went off in my head on Saturday afternoon – in a weird spiritual way, as if a message from God: now you’re not tied to Hong Kong. Woof… or should I say, mah!
The other small bomb that went off in my head was the last time a close pet died… the family dog, Pippin, in 1978. That afternoon I saw David Brightling. David is a long time friend from Toronto who I’ve known since I was nine years old and now lives in Hong Kong. Saturday afternoon, after my visit to the SPCA, David and I met for a beer and then went to see Casino Royale. David and I were also fond of another Caldwell family cat, Odysseus, who passed away in the early 90s.
What do I remember most about Olivia? The first mah in the SPCA. The fact she loved having her tummy rubbed, claws and legs outstretched in pure gluttony. She loved bacon, ham and tuna juice. The fact Olivia loved a good blast of hot air – whether coming from a heater, the computer or dehumidifier, sunshine pouring through the window, she was there. If Olivia knew about microwave ovens I am sure she’d have accidentally killed herself long ago. I remember the fact she loved sitting on top of us when we were lying on a sofa or bed and she was amazingly tolerant of babies, toddlers and young children. (At left: Olivia & Sela are passengers on Seb’s sofa minibus, Sept 2005.)
(Left: Olivia looking for a comfy warm place to sleep in Seb’s crib, January 2002.) I’ll miss the fact the Juniper senior HR team heard Olivia every Wednesday night on our conference calls. Her last call was a few weeks ago when she welcomed new guy on the block, Steve D. Olivia loved her Bizzy Kitty (cardboard clawing board), especially when it was covered in catnip. Yes, she enjoyed a buzz every once in a while!
Despite the drugs, Olivia was a very smart cat, too. One could talk to Olivia and she seemed to have this uncanny way of showing understanding. Olivia was loud… wow, was she loud – sometimes driving us crazy. While I was with Jasper in the hospital on Friday night, Olivia got loud again, this time as if she wanted to say something.
"Do you think on Saturday morning when Olivia suddenly started meowing that she knew she was dying," I asked Tess.
"Yes, I do," replied Tess who explained she gave Olivia lots of extra cuddles that evening.
While circling the airport the last few weeks we watched Olivia closely for signs of pain or discomfort. (Olivia had been remarkably healthy the entire time with us, barring a few extra grams on the tummy.) We’d both been around pets long enough that we instinctively knew the nature of Olivia’s symptoms was probably irreversible, and Olivia seemed to know that, too. Tess and I agreed we wanted Olivia to die at home, but if she started to suffer we’d head to the vets.
At home is where Olivia fell into her deepest sleep, in one of her favourite spots, on the sofa, next to the heater. What I will never forget was that last look on Olivia’s face. When we found her I don’t think she’d landed that long ago – maybe only twenty minutes or even less? Olivia’s eyes were still full of life, so much so I did a double take. Then I got it… the look in Olivia’s eyes was unmistakable and something I will never, ever forget… thank you for giving me another chance, Olivia was saying, thank you for loving me, for rubbing my tummy, for the heater… thank you for the 9th life. You’re welcome, Olivia, we love you, too.
Mah.
