Bravely On

As quickly as possible after their son left for college, Derek and Cathy sold their home in the big city and took up permanent residence in the plain but proud double wide that for the past 20 years had been dubbed their “country home.” The place soon looked lived in with flowering plants and rocking chairs on the porch and a red-barn storage building at the end of the brick walk leading from the front steps. Derek, a tall and stoic man, loved life there on the 40 partially wooded acres just outside a small town near Mark Twain Lake.  Cathy, 13 years Derek’s junior and short of stature was quick to laugh but carried a take-charge attitude and a spirit of strength and determination.  Not nearly as enamored with country life as her husband, she felt a bit isolated living over an hour from the nearest library or real store. On the other hand, she was relieved to see Derek at peace. He had struggled bravely these 15 years after a near fatal heart attack robbed him of his short-term memory and strength in his legs. She indulged him in most things. She set about establishing a new normal having little to occupy her time and not another soul to talk to most days. That was about to change.

On their first chilly fall day in the country, Cathy stepped outside to admire the colorful trees and was greeted by a flash of dark fur scurrying across and then under the deck. That “flash” turned out to be a young, frightened, and very pregnant feral cat. She was a beautiful little gray tabby with solid black along her back from her shoulders to her tail. Unusually tiny for an adult cat, she was obviously clever with brave determination radiating from perfectly round, pale green eyes set in her small and round face. Of course, Cathy began putting out food for the newly discovered visitor. Derek decided they should name her if they were going to feed her. “How about ‘Squatter’ - she is after all living uninvited under our deck.” Cathy’s blue eyes blazed “I indulge you in most things Derek Johnson, but we will not assign such an unkind label to this brave and lovely little creature.”  She paused – “That’s it! She is brave and she is lovely, let’s call her ‘Bravely.”  When Bravely’s bulging tummy suddenly shrank overnight, a flashlight aimed under the deck revealed two tiny balls of fluff. The fluffs proved to be a solid black male and a silver-gray female. Cathy, a lover of English history, named them Henry and Anne, respectively.

Regular servings of tuna and treats won the heart and confidence of the deck dwellers. Soon, Bravely and her two kids were cautiously nosing a short distance inside the open back door then racing back outside.  This behavior continued, each day showing less hesitance than the last, until the threesome became indoor dwellers. Derek and Cathy once again had a full nest. After the kittens were weaned and delivered to new forever homes, Bravely was taken to the only animal hospital in town, right across from the diner where Cathy and Derek enjoyed pancakes and sausage on Saturday mornings. Dr. Ruth said she was fit as a fiddle but, because she gave birth so young, would probably remain her small size. After a short stay at the clinic to make sure Henry and Anne would have no future siblings, Bravely returned home to continue life as a pampered fur baby. She readily adapted to the warmth and love she found as a house cat, but she in no way lost her love of outdoor adventures and proved herself small but fierce. When the mood struck her, she would meow politely at the door to be let outside. If her request was ignored, she resorted to loud yowling, knocking little things to the floor, and zooming around the room, knowing that Cathy would give in and open the door. She always returned, sometimes bearing proudly captured but unwelcome gifts. Cathy would scold her but secretly thought it amusing. She loved the feline antics of her new best friend and found great comfort in companionship of the sassy little cat. Time passed bringing days filled with morning coffee on the porch, Andy Griffith reruns, regular trips to town, and an occasional trip to the “big city” of St. Louis to visit family and friends. Bravely was entertainment and comfort to them both but she particularly bonded with Cathy. When Derek and Cathy were both on the couch, Cathy’s was the lap of choice. Cathy was quite pleased.

Several years, a new daughter-in-law, two car trades, and two cataract surgeries later, a seemingly normal Monday brought a forever change to their lives. That morning, Cathy discovered a pesky, itchy rash on her hands. At the doctor’s office, the cheerful Physician Assistant did a quick exam, inspected the rash, and prescribed a cream. “The rash is nothing,” she said “but you do look a tiny bit jaundiced. I would like to schedule a sonogram of your liver just to be safe. It may be an overkill, but I would rather err on the side of caution.” Cathy readily agreed and arrived early the very next day for the test. The cream had already taken care of the rash.  Cathy and Derek assured each other that things were fine. The test was just a routine step to make sure things were OK. When the doctor stepped quietly into the room after reading the test results, they knew things were not OK. “The sonogram shows a small mass in the duct between your pancreas and your liver” The word pancreas landed heavy in the room. “We are referring you to a specialist in St. Louis who will complete the diagnosis and treatment plan, but I’m going to be honest with you, from what we can see today, the mass appears to be malignant.”  Cathy and Derek looked at each other in confusion. How could this be happening. The silent drive that neither of them remembered delivered them home where everything looked different. The entire house seemed braced for disaster. Derek was inconsolable at the thought of losing his wife and best friend. Cathy was the strong one. “Play the hand you’re dealt” was her motto. The only normal was Bravely who demanded dinner the minute they arrived and retired to her place in the window for her nightly preening. Later, she tentatively placed one paw in Cathy’s lap. “What’s wrong?” she seemed to say. “Oh Bravely” Cathy said as she buried her face in the warm fur “I am so glad you are here.” And Bravely was there, ever present, still demanding, still warm and calming on her lap.

Days and events passed in a blur of fear, crying, hope, and obliterated hope when the specialist diagnosed pancreatic cancer and scheduled surgery. The surgery, known as a “Whipple” was described to them as a difficult, lengthy surgery, life threatening in itself and requiring a long and treacherous recovery. Cathy operated on auto pilot arranging for at least a month away from home. They decided they would travel to St. Louis the day before the surgery and try to stay with their son and daughter-in-law until Cathy should recover enough to return to the country… and to Bravely. Because of their son’s two territorial resident cats, Bravely would board for the duration with Dr. Ruth. When they arrived in St. Louis, everyone attempted to go on as normal, but a parlor of grief and fear hung over every meal…every conversation…every minute.

To everyone’s relief, Cathy came through the surgery with flying colors. The doctor reported that all of the tumor was gone and future treatment would be dictated by pending lab results.  Much to the joyful shock of her medical team, within 24 hours, Cathy took food and even managed a short walk. Derek was immensely relieved and encouraged by Cathy’s remarkable progress, but completely exhausted. Two days later, while sitting beside Cathy’s hospital bed, Derek found himself suddenly weak and short of breath. A mad wheelchair dash to the ER lead to the grim discovery that the stress of Derek’s grief and fear of losing his wife had seriously damaged his frail heart. He did not suffer a heart attack, it was takotsubo cardiomyopathy – otherwise known as broken heart syndrome. John was admitted to the hospital but valiant efforts to revive his failing heart proved fruitless. Derek died. Cathy left the hospital in a daze of disbelief. After the funeral, knowing that she would probably never live in her country home again, Cathy rented a small unit in her son’s apartment building. When asked to try make a list of things she wanted from the old house, the only thing she could say was that she wanted Bravely – “bring my cat to me” she said, “just bring my Bravely.”  

So, Cathy and Bravely began a new life together. Romps in the woods for Bravely turned to gazing at the birds outside the window of the 5^th floor apartment. Cathy was the only one to pester for food and treats and Cathy’s lap was the only choice each evening. Bravely sensed the determination in Cathy to move forward but she also detected the sadness and fatigue, especially on the nights Cathy returned from something called “chemo.”  Cathy’s friends and family were in and out, assisting with rides to treatment and occasional outings. But Bravely was the constant comfort and companion. On the nights Cathy returned from treatment, Bravely sat especially close and would not leave her lap. Cathy found great comfort and calm from the soft warmth of Bravely’s furry little body and the gentle song her purr.  Yes, Bravely knew how to snuggle and comfort but… Bravely was still Bravely and she kept Cathy on her toes. She audaciously demanded food late at night and darted out and down the hall every time the door was opened causing Cathy and any nearby neighbors to give chase.

Six months later, the first round of chemo was deemed successful and Cathy rang the bell. During the few months following, Cathy cautiously made travel plans, moved to a spacious and beautiful new apartment, and chatted happily with Bravely about her intentions to take art classes and join a reading club. The cat listened gladly. She liked the new place. There were more sun spots on the floor in which to bask and there were more trees and birds to watch outside the windows.  Cathy began to settle in to her new home and routine and find joy in living closer to her son and the things she loved in the city. Though Derek was tragically gone, it seemed to Cathy that life, though different, would go on. She was glad she had Bravely, a link to her past with Derek and a funny and loveable companion for the future. But fate was not done with her.

Just as her hair and her strength were fully returning, a routine follow-up brought the dreaded news that the cancer was back. Cathy was sad but not entirely shocked. She knew she had beat the odds of survival dictated by her stats. The odds that she would survive the surgery were only 50%. When post-surgery lab results revealed cancer in her lymph nodes, she was told the odds were a staggering 90% that she would be dead in three months. But here she was a year and half later, plugging right along. She returned home from hearing the news, made a cup of tea, and welcomed Bravely on her lap. “You’re my little cheerleader,” she told her “I know things will change for you, but I will make sure you are loved.”  Bravely quietly settled in the warmth of Cathy’s lap, seemed to understand, and, lulled by the sound of her voice, half closed her eyes and began to purr.  Later that night, Cathy called her niece who lived in Texas and was newly established in her first apartment as an independent adult. “Angela,” she said “we need to have a hard conversation.” After explaining that her cancer was back and the prognosis was poor, Cathy said “I need you to promise me something. Bravely is contrary and likes few people, but the two of you are alike. I think she will like you. If I don’t make it, I need you to be Bravely’s new home. She can be a handful. I’ve spoiled the heck out of her… we’ve been through a lot together.” Having an elderly and sassy adult cat as her first pet was not part of Angela’s life plan. She paused a moment then said “Of course Aunt Cathy, I will take Bravely.”  

 For a while, Cathy noticed very little difference. The returning offender soon took hold with a vengeance and brutally spread throughout her body. Time eventually found Cathy resting in her living room where the couch had been replaced by a hospice bed. Caring loved ones and her little companion were by her side. Bravely left Cathy’s bed only for food and an occasional nap in the sun. She expected nothing from Cathy, regularly offering whisker kisses and settling quietly on her bed. Instead, Bravely directed her antics toward the new people in the apartment who were ridiculously slow in responding to her demands. Bravely stayed by Cathy’s side until, exactly two years to the day of her husband’s death, Cathy breathed her last.

Two weeks and a disturbing and unpleasant plane ride later, Bravely sat smugly on a different bed, inches away from the sleeping face of the new person. With tail twitching lazily, she plotted her next move. Impatient yowling had yielded no results. Insistent purring while purposefully kneading the bedcovers landed completely unnoticed on ears that appeared to be carved out of stone. The woman didn’t even budge at the loud smack of several choice items landing one by one on the tile floor as they were launched from the kitchen counter. It was time for serious action.  Arching her back, Bravely let out an unearthly screech as she leapt into the air, bounced heavily off Angela’s chest, and zoomed around the room. Angela bellowed a matching screech as she was catapulted from a deep sleep to a standing position with a pillow raised high in the air. “Bravely…I SWEAR…” she yelled, then slowly shook her head, and turned her gaze toward the picture on the dresser. Aunt Cathy’s blue eyes shone bright and determined under a hot pink knit cap adorned with cat ears. Angela remembered the hard conversation. Angela turned from the picture, dropped the pillow, and made her way to the kitchen where Bravely waited in front of the cabinet that contained the cat food and treats. “Listen girl,” Angela said “I will keep my promise to love and take good care of you forever, but we are going to have to come to an understanding…” Bravely purred and rubbed against the new person’s legs. She was good at understanding. She would settle down. She just needed to establish who was really in charge.