In Loving Memory Of Smokey

As I write, I’m sitting on the sofa where our beloved cat, Smokey, would come and lay across my lap, purring loudly, his head dangling, and his legs angled in all directions, as I reached over him to work on my lap-top! I now have time to reflect.

In August 2013, we had to say “Goodbye” to our previous beloved cat, Smutty, at almost 20 years old. And so it was that in August 2015 our daughter, Hannah, thought it was time we had another! Our eldest daughter, Jessica, and her husband were expecting our first grandchild and I wasn’t too sure whether this was the right time to adopt another cat. However, without much persuasion, we decided to make enquiries.

Feline Friends had a cat who was living in a broken greenhouse and needed a home with no other cats. An appointment was made for us to visit a sweet elderly lady called Audrey, who was temporarily looking after him. He had turned up in a poor condition in her garden. The PDSA had arranged for him to have some necessary surgery on his back legs. But upon his recovery, came a problem – he’d decided he was boss, which didn’t go down well with her other three cats! 

During our visit, I distinctly remember Audrey saying “That’s Smokey!” and pointing towards the top of a cabinet where a large cat sat upright looking at us, blue-grey and white, with huge white paws, a tiny white tip on his tail, and stunning turquoise-green eyes. He eventually jumped down and inquisitively came to see us. Without much hesitation, we gladly accepted him, and we continued to keep in touch with Audrey, frequently fetching her over to come and visit him. 

Smokey’s needs soon began to shape our household. Wherever I went, he went, but he always first checked on my husband, Dave. At night, he’d jump on the bed and go to Dave first; then burrow under the duvet snuggling up to me, his head tucked tightly under my chin, and paws stretched out around my neck. He became a devoted companion, never happier than when he was relaxing with us indoors, or pottering in the garden, or best of all laying in the sun as we sat out. 

We quickly learnt why Smokey needed a home with no other cats! He was very territorial and would instantly chase off any cat who dared to enter our garden. I often had to rescue his cornered victims and lead him back inside. He also used to have mad flings when, like a whirlwind, he’d suddenly rush into the house, dart upstairs, look out of the window, race back down, dash around the room knocking things over, and bolt outside again!

More recently though, Smokey calmed down and rarely left my side. He never stayed out for long, unless we were there with him. On warmer days, he would continually beckon me to go out into the garden and would then follow me everywhere. He loved basking in the sun and when inside, he would move to different window sills, following the sun around the house. He also loved being combed and spent a lot of time meticulously washing his beautiful fur coat.

Last December, we took Smokey to the vet’s. He’d been vomiting and off his food. We thought perhaps he needed treatment for enteritis, which he’d had previously. But no, it wasn’t that; we were stunned when the vet said she could feel a hard lump in his abdomen which might be cancer. She could either keep him in, do tests and a biopsy, which may well lead to surgery and treatment; or try him with anti-sickness plus anti-inflammatory injections lasting three days. 

Smokey had been almost youthful for his age, but he was approaching 16 years old and we agreed with the vet that an operation would cause him stress and could be a dangerous option, so we opted for the injections. But he still wasn’t eating, he stopped jumping up onto the bed at night and, more poignantly, he stopped accompanying me around the house, but spent most of the time looking forlorn, laying on a basket I’d covered in his blankets next to the radiator. 

The evening before we were due to return to the vet’s, I had an online team meeting with Creation Care Church and we prayed for Smokey. Almost immediately after this, he came into the bedroom and miraculously leapt onto the bed, something he hadn’t done for over a week! He went to Dave for a cuddle, then to me, pawing at my knee as I sat at my lap-top. This started to raise my hopes a little. But sadly, it wasn’t to last, as he later reverted to being really unwell.

The next day, the vet felt a large tumour in Smokey’s abdomen. She said it was most likely lymphoma and he probably wasn’t in pain, but would likely be feeling sick most of the time. She could try more medication, but agreed it would only prolong the situation and, under her advice, we decided to end his suffering. He went to sleep peacefully, with Dave & I each holding a paw. The vet lifted his lifeless body into his box and we brought him home to bury in the garden.

I’ve always dreaded the death of our cats. I couldn’t bear the thought of them being put to sleep and hoped they’d die naturally of old age. But in spite of their failing health, this didn’t happen and we had to make that decision. I felt both guilty they’d been euthanized and guilty it hadn’t been done sooner. I’d coped reasonably well with Smutty’s death. I was so sad and missed him terribly, but it was a natural sadness for a beloved cat who had lived an extraordinarily long life.

I have not coped well with Smokey’s death: my intense grief for him had started with the shock news of the vet’s discovery of the abdominal lump. I wasn’t prepared for his sudden death. My mind tells me we have done the right thing in sparing his suffering by not putting him through the stress of exploratory investigations, operations and treatments. But my heart and arms ache for him and as I look at his grave in our garden, guilt hovers around me. We had loved our last three cats into extreme old age, and we had expected several more years of loving Smokey. 

The loss of a companion animal can be as devastating to some as the loss of a human being. There are those who are lonely of human friendship and are dependent upon the companionship of animals. Research studies show that the emotional distress caused by the loss of an animal can make it difficult for some people to cope. They have the same symptoms as those suffering from human bereavement. They need reassurance that the strength of the bond which can exist between an animal and their carer is sensitively understood. They need to be able to grieve.

But I’ve been surprised to be comforted by non-animal welfare people who’ve told me that the death of their animal companion was one of the worst losses they‘ve ever endured. Just what is it that’s so important to us about our companion animals? We know their life spans will be comparatively short and that we shall almost certainly have to face the time when their life will have to be brought to an end. Yet when these times come they can overwhelm us, and we cannot ease our feelings by discussing with our animals how they feel and what they themselves want. 

I think we love our animals, simply because they trust and love us. The relationship we have with each one of them, and they with us, is unique and by each one of their deaths we are diminished. I think that’s why Jesus said “Not one sparrow is forgotten by God”(Lk 12:6). God has a unique relationship with each one of His creatures; He created and loves them. 

But will we see our companion animals again? Yes, I believe we will. “The creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God. We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth… We ourselves groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for… the redemption of our bodies” (Romans 8:21-23). 

In his book ‘Heaven’, Randy Alcorn says, “This is a clear statement that our resurrection, the redemption of our bodies, will not only bring deliverance to us, but also to the rest of creation, which has been groaning in its suffering. This indicates that on the renewed earth, after mankind’s resurrection, animals who once suffered on the old earth will join God’s children in glorious freedom from death and decay”. And he goes on to say, “If we believe God is their Creator, that He loves us and them, that He intends to restore His creatures from the bondage they experienced because of our sin, then we have Biblical grounds for not only wanting, but also expecting that we’ll be with them again on the renewed earth”.

Losing Smokey has been particularly hard. We really miss him, especially at night. I keep reliving that evening, when he briefly picked up, full of affection for the last time before reverting to being unwell; then the moment he was sedated; the moment his weary head dropped as he fell asleep before the final injection; and the moment I lifted his lifeless body and laid him in the grave that Dave had emotionally struggled to dig. It all seemed to happen so quickly. 

He’s been such an adorable family member & we have so many happy memories. We’re heart-broken & miss him more than words can say, but I know he will be at Peace now in the loving care of his Creator until we meet again. Love you so much Smokey Darling, God Bless.

Thank you for reading.  We hope and pray that if you have lost a precious companion animal, that it is helpful to know that other’s experience the deep feelings of loss you do.  In Christ, we have hope because of the work he did while living upon the earth and dying on the cross, not only for humans but for animals and the whole created order!  The Gospel is truly good news!  And we’ll see our beloved furry companions again one day – AMEN!  Blessings ~ Ros