Saying Good-bye to a Peacemaker

When Gilda showed up we did not need another kitten. The neighborhood had experienced a population boom in strays that year and our household cat count had more than doubled. Our house was a maze of baby gates to keep the female dogs who didn't get along apart and to keep the kittens away from the dog who didn't like them. Gilda settled in with cat nanny, our older, mixed pit/rott/who-knows-what, Wendy, but Wendy passed away within the month. She left "her" kittens without the fear of dogs.

Gilda never really grew up in size, but she was one of the smartest cats I'd have lived with. She and her likely half-brother, Pip, were a dynamic duo. You could watch them think and formulate their plans. When Pip decided it was time to storm the gate, his diminutive sister was right there with him. Maybe it was a combination of his size and her smarts that led to the revolution.

Pip is a big guy so jumping the gate was not an issue for him. It was what was on the other side, Buffy the cat hater, that was the challenge. He jumped the gate, waited for Buffy to come running and then would jump back over. Gilda watched - she was too tiny to consider jumping the gate, so she tried climbing it. The gate fell over and Buffy rushed to grab a kitten snack.

But Gilda met her and didn't run. Buffy was baffled. A feline that didn't flee? What could she do? Not only did the little cat mite not run, she toddled as close as she could get to the barking monster and sat down next to her feet. Thus Buffy's world was turned upside down. We started leaving the gate tilted so Gilda could walk in the room and leave as she pleased. Buffy was usually her target and she would stroll up and rub her head on Buffy's legs. Pip noticed the not running tactic and started holding his ground. Buffy couldn't chase kitties that didn't run.

Over the next cold, winter months, Gilda managed to snuggle up to Buffy for warmth. She was already tight buddies with my Aussie, Freebis, but Buffy was a tougher cookie.
At first she grudgingly allowed Gilda to share her blanket. By spring, Gilda was her homegirl through and through.

The gate was discarded. All cats could walk without fear through the house. Gilda and Pip taught the new baby, Loki, how to swallow his inborn instinct to run from a dog and Buffy became an honorary member of the ginger cat brigade and number one protector of Gilda.

This past week, Gilda took ill. We discovered she had an odd virus that cats can pick up but only a small percentage of them react to it. Gilda's lungs were filling with fluid. The vet gave me meds and said the best we could do was to try to ease her breathing and take it day by day. She had to be kept away from the other cats, who most likely have the virus, but successfully shed it instead of building up antibodies. So she got her own room and visits from Buffy who would come in to share meals and clean her ears. Freebis dropped in to say hi.

Gilda tried very hard to run the house from her new headquarters, but the task was bigger than the breath she had. She sat in the window, watching cars go by, birds land on the porch roof, and tracked the occasional fly who got throught the screen. I watched her ears work as little radar dishes as she took in all the household sounds. Pip and Loki chasing each other in the hall. Buffy barking at them for doing so. Freebis asking in Aussie talk to have his butt scratched. Wil calling the boys to dinner before coming in to give her a spoonful of something all messy and gravy-covered. She couldn't be a part of the action, but she monitored it all.

Yesterday, when I came home from work and went to see her, she stood up on the bed and wagged her tail - her standard way of greeting me, just like Wendy and the other dogs. We spent the night in my bedroom, watching tv and keeping Buffy in line. Wil brought concerned big brother, Pip in to see her and they meowed at each other. Gilda wagged her tail. I know she wanted to get closer to him, but we could only hold them and let them see each other.

Around midnight, Gilda couldn't catch her breath and stopped breathing. Just as suddenly as she had come in to my life two years ago, she was gone with a final tiny meow. She worked all week to stand up to what was killing her, just as she had done with Buffy. This time there

Her legacy is that of a peacemaker, diplomat and strong but sweet ruler. She was the one who brought the canine and feline factions together. As I write this, Loki and Buffy are sharing a blanket. Gilda didn't run from a threat, instead she met it head on and dealt with it the best she could and usually got her way, despite being the tiniest creature in the house. She knew that sometimes it took a little force and some nasty hisses, but it wasn't necessary to hang on to ill will once the situation was resolved.  Her will was bigger than her body and stronger than conventions. She would have made a stunning world leader, had she not been born a cat.


Pip and Gilda, Nov. 2006. The start of a beautiful friendship.