My Girl Zoe

Our beloved cat Zoe died on Friday, February 15, at approximately 4:30 p.m.  My husband Paul and I realized that morning that she was in pain and her health had deteriorated quickly following her diagnosis of squamous cell carcinoma on January 30.  It was an aggressive cancer that does not respond to chemo and made surgery impossible due to its location in her throat.

Zoe was one of four girls born to my next door neighbor’s cat, Lizzie.  I was single then and living in an apartment.  At barely a year old, Lizzie was on her second litter.  I came home from work one day to find another neighbor’s son had treed the heavily pregnant cat while he and a friend threw stones at her.  I immediately took her in and her kittens were born a few days later.  Lizzie chose, of all places, a newly cleaned, covered litter box in which to deliver her babies.  Two of the kittens were born close to midnight September 25 and two more in the wee hours of September 26.  For a petite feline who weighed under 10 pounds, her brood of four seemed unimaginable.

Zoe was a timid kitten, earning her the title of Shy Kitty.  Finding good homes for Lizzie and her babes proved harder than anticipated so in the end, Paul kept the only black kitten, Mrs. Bean, and I kept Zoe.  Shortly after Zoe’s birth, one of my two cats, Zorro, died unexpectedly.  Zoe’s name was chosen to celebrate Zorro and her presence in the home helped heal our hearts.  She relentlessly pursued a friendship with my remaining cat, Redmond, and he grew to cherish her.

Zoe had a Cheshire cat smile, a high pitched voice, and matured into a little talker, shedding her shy kitty moniker with ease.  After Paul and I married, Zoe quickly adapted to the life of an indoor/outdoor cat, took on the job of vector control, and managed to keep other cats out of the backyard through intimidation rather than fighting.  Agile and adventurous, Paul and I awoke one morning in our second-story bedroom to find Zoe staring back at us from her perch in the Redwood tree next door.  She often followed me to the property line in the morning as I walked to work and was there to greet me in the afternoon when I returned.  

Zoe lived a good life.  She never lacked a full belly, a loving home, or a sense of security.  My girl always came when I called, including last Friday when I interrupted her sunbath on a beautiful, warm afternoon to take her on her final journey to the vet.  Zoe was loyal, loving, and brave to the very end.  Paul’s was the last face she saw.  She died in my arms as we prayed for her easy passage to the next life. 

Sweet, Zoe, I had forgotten how much a broken heart hurts.  Thank you for sharing every day of your life with me.  You are loved and missed.

Zoe Sundstrom
September 25, 1997 - February 15, 2013

by Elizabeth Sundstrom