In memory of Suzie

What Suzie means to me. Suzie came into my life when I was just starting to live on my own in the UK. I’d always wanted a cat, a companion to keep me company in my little one-bedroom flat. I first met Suzie at Cats Protection League, where she was listed as part of a bonded pair. Her brother Sammy rushed up to me, super vocal and friendly, and I initially wanted to adopt him. The shelter wanted them rehomed together, but after further observation, they realized the two didn’t actually get along. Another family adopted Sammy, and I brought Suzie home. Suzie is such a sweetheart. At the shelter, she mostly stayed in her cage, not shut down, just quiet and aloof. She didn’t really engage with the other cats. She was there for four months… until I came along. From day one at home, she settled right in. She explored every corner, used the litter box like a pro, never scratched furniture, and never hissed or swatted. And when I petted her, she purred. She truly is the best cat I could have asked for. In those early post-graduation months, when every day felt the same, full of job rejections and uncertainty, Suzie was my constant. Her loud purrs, her cuddles, the simple act of just being there... she was my anchor. She also became my little travel companion. I secretly wanted her to be my road trip buddy. When we stayed at an Airbnb in Ayr, she was calm, curious, and friendly, no fuss, no fear. She had so much love to give. And I loved her back, completely. She did have a sensitive stomach, threw up most of the supermarket food I naively bought at first. Only Purina One and Sheba wet food worked. A few vet visits confirmed it was likely just hairballs and a touchy gut. When my mom visited, she surprised me with how lovingly she spoke to Suzie, even letting her know when we’d be stepping out. And my partner: she’s been an important part of Suzie’s life, too. Always caring, always attentive. Suzie loved her pillow, loafing in the same little crevice every time. Then came June. She started shaking. I was in Budapest at the time, but my partner stepped in like a second mum and got her to the vet. Blood work came back fine. Maybe just a GI issue. Suzie seemed to stabilise with meds. When I returned and brought her home, she was so happy, stealing my chair, climbing onto the bed to curl into my arm, resting her paw on mine. Then just a month later, I heard it, a thud. She’d tried to jump onto my chair but slipped and landed badly. From there, it all changed. Weak legs. Wobbly, drunk-like walking. No cuddles. No poop. No appetite. I was — I am — in shock. How did my Suzie deteriorate this fast? Then the news came, after five vet visits no less. Advanced lymphoma. That explained her drastic decline. I had to make the hard decision of letting her go. I stood there wrapped my arms around her til the very end, telling her it’s okay, I know you’re tired. She passed on with the world at her paws and a courageous heart. Suzie, you are my joy, my comfort, and my friend. You’ve brought so much warmth into my life. Rest well; I’ll be here, right next to you, knowing that I did my very best to be the dad you deserve. Stay strong, my girl. You and me.

by Rocky Siu