She did this by looking at me like I was nuts when I brought her in to catch a baby mouse, she did this twice in a row and I told my husband, "Maudie has decided to retire." A visiting friend who was a vet then sourced the problem, she had only one tooth left, remarkably, she had probably been like that for quite awhile and had still been spotted teaching the last batch of kittens their hunting skills.
Her many years of good service won her a place on top of the old oven each day for special canned food and often a few hours to walk about the kitchen before being returned outside. Never really pan trained very well, there were occasional accidents, but old people have those two, mostly she stayed outside.
A couple of months ago, we noticed she was loosing weight and despite the best of food, she quickly became a little cat skeleton with fur. I also saw that "the boys" the big former toms outside (she was the last of the female barn cats left) had vacated the hand woven wool rug a friend made for the cats, and they were letting Maudie sleep on it. I'd never thought of Tom cats as being chivalrous, but that more than anything told me Maudie was on borrowed time.
On the other hand, being 15 or so, is like a human in their 70's; not always old but not young either. I was pretty sure the vet couldn't do anything unless she was in pain, so we just kept brining her in and petting her.
Two days ago, she tried to run to me and fell over twice; she'd obviously had stroke though her mind was fine and she was still perky. Moved into the back kitchen conservatory (small glassed in area) she was soon spotted having dragged herself up into the window and was playing bat-bat with the dog, who helpfully barked at her each time she swatted the window. She wanted to go out, but we couldn't let her; her legs would not have taken her far, even if she did make it up into the window.
The little rug was brought in and a water bottle put under it, by yesterday she had stopped eating or even drinking cat milk. Last night, a friend of over 30 years was visiting from the States and spent a very long time holding her. This morning, she was still there but mostly sleeping on the water bottle; picking her up seemed to hurt, so we only did it to freshen the hot water to keep her warm.
This afternoon, on the warmest Spring day I can ever remember here; I found her passed away comfortably in her sleep, on the water bottle and covered by a sunbeam.
She is now buried in the back garden with a tiny piece of amber, a hand-spun ball of wool and a toy mousie; just like the real ones she used to hunt day after day.
Oh, and I forgot to mention what else was special about little Maude, she did all this with just one working eye. The other one was clouded and totally white and had been since she turned up at a friend's homestead as a half-grown stray kitten.
So, never think even a disabled pet may not also turn out to be a working won as well. Not all of them can, but some of them do...
A friend suggested that she is now in a happy place where "mice will run right into her mouth," but knowing Maudie, I think she is much happier chasing and bringing them down herself...
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