Don't Look a Gift Horse - er, Cat - in the Mouth: Felice and Patches

I have some pretty great friends.

They are seriously amazing people.

[Full disclosure - this post is about animal loss and might be a difficult read. Take care of yourselves.]

It's been a hard year for me. My cat Felice began her downward journey in January when she started taking the stairs with a slight limp. We thought she'd just fallen off one of the cat trees, which was not uncommon for her. She was an absolute klutz her entire life, not an ounce of feline grace anywhere in her body. As evidence, I present a photo of the day I set up a cat tree in the first apartment we lived in together. This was October 4, 2015. She was five months old.

 

A few years later, she fell off a cat tree as I was on the phone with someone from Collectibles Insurance, trying to get an estimate on a policy for my models. You know the saying, "Hit every branch on the way down?" That cat tree had five levels and Felice crash-landed on every single one. It was so spectacular that the guy on the phone stopped mid-sentence and asked, "Are you all right?" I didn't even have the call on speakerphone; her fall was just that loud.

So in January, when I took her to the vet, nothing seemed terribly amiss, and given her history, we thought it was just muscular. Not fifteen minutes after we got home from that appointment, the little turd fell off one of the cat trees again, which seemed proof of our theory.

It wasn't.

In the intervening ten months, we went to regular vet appointments and specialist vet appointments, did all kinds of tests, tried over a dozen meds, and had her hospitalized twice, once for a blood transfusion. We went from "It's muscular" to "It's neurological" to "It's either disc disease or cancer because we've ruled out everything else" to "It might be just a bad ulcer plus a flare of her autoimmune disorder" to "It's probably lymphoma."

On October 25, we had to say goodbye.

 

Here's where the "amazing friends" part comes in.

The amount of support we've gotten has been incredible.

In the midst of the crises of the last two weeks of Felice's life, I went to a model horse show, Steel City Live, badly needing the distraction from all my anxiety. As soon as I got there, more than half the people at the show hall stopped by to ask me how Felice was. Those same folks checked in with me all day. Those same folks cheered when I announced she was stable enough to go home. Those same folks secured one of my show models that I'd accidentally left in one of the rings in my haste to go pick Felice up.

After we lost her, my fellow Are You Kitten Me Live Show crew members plus a couple other close hobby friends went in together to get us a shadowbox, making sure it was big enough to fit Felice's favorite toy, her Dude. They also did two orders from Shutterfly: a blanket made from pictures of her and a narrated picture book about her life. Another local hobby friend 3D-printed a cool little box which, when lit with fairy lights from the inside, also shows pictures of Felice. Dozens more hobby friends reached out on Facebook to offer condolences, support, and kind words about Felice and our care of her. Others PM'd or texted. Some are still checking in, almost a month later.

The model horse hobby has placed so many wonderful people in my life, and I appreciate them every single day.

 

I gave you all that backstory because I knew I wanted to start the "Don't Look a Gift Horse in the Mouth" series with Felice.

I've been gifted a number of Breyers over the years by my friend Heather B, but none are more special to me right now than this one. This is #710400 Patches, a BreyerFest special run of 750 pieces from the year 2000.

Heather gave her to me for free several years ago because she looks like Felice. 🧡