Artemisa came into my life a sunny august afternoon, unexpected. Just like most things in my life.
My best friend and her sister were plotting behind my back to get me a cat, since I had manifested many times before that I was dying to have one, and on that day, they sent me little Artemisa bundled up in a little bread basket, all fleas and hunger and meows.
My best friend's sister found her outside her house one morning, meowing outside her door. She didn't keep her because she has this demonic pug who hates everything that moves, so she couldn't have a tiny kitten waddling around her house. But she took her in no matter the pug, and locked her up in her room until she decided I would become little Artemisa's mom.
My first reaction was very simple:
FREAK THE FUCK OUT!!!
WHAT? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THIS? WHAT DO I DO? I WAS NOT READY FOR THIS H-E-L-P
To be honest I felt like a teenage girl who just found out she's pregnant. Or, who woke up one day with a baby next to her. I was terrified, mortified, anxious. How do you take care of a cat? How do you feed them? What is the protocol here? I was very, very used to puppies, I've had infinity of them. But a cat? I've never had a cat. My biggest experience with cats was with my ex girlfriend's cats (who weren't really hers, either); they would jump on me, sleep on me, but taking care of them? Never. This was different.
So, I did what anyone in their right mind would do.
Write someone else for help, and google everything they could.
The first person to find out I had a kitty home was @agnikana, funnily enough. I freaked out to her, and asked her to tell me what to do. She gave me some advice, but of course it wasn't enough. Or maybe I was too anxious to know. I just wanted the little furry one to be happy and okay on her first night home.
We fed her, I gave her some water, and immediately the big bellied little beast was sound asleep in her little bread basket.
"I'm calling her Artemisa" I told my mom.
I chose Artemisa (Artemis, in english), because that name just resonated with her so much. Something told me I had to give her that name.
I had been studying about wicca those days (and reading about The Charge of the Goddess, to be exact), and the name Artemisa stuck with me, and when I saw this little kitten being so strong and powerful altough she was so dirty and ugly, I had to give her the name of a goddess: "Artemis of the wildland, Mistress of Animals. Protector of young girls".
Yes, this was it.
I sighed in relief.
Good, that gave me some time to think about what I was going to do with this big responsability I had in front of me.
I googled some things about kittens, read a lot, cried a little, and then, she was up again. Oh my god.
Now, don't get me wrong, I was in love with her, but I was going through some stuff at the time, and I didn't want this big thing happening JUST now, (she actually arrived at a perfect timing, that little angel). We quickly became really good friends. She was very demanding, though, and wanted to jump all over the place already. I guess she felt she was at home.
We fed her again, and when it was time for us human to also go to bed, I put her in that little basket with some more blankets for her, and she fell asleep feeling the warmth of my hand. I have to admit that at that moment I shed a tear or two (okay, a lot of tears, I cried like a bitch), because I was so happy.
My biggest issue at that moment was my father. He "HATED" cats. That was one of the reasons why I never had one in the first place. There was a stray cat that we tried to adopt (my mother and I) but he never stayed because my dad used to kick him out of the house when he was around :(
My dad was out of the house that night, but when he came out, I took him to the room where I was keeping the kitten in, so he could see the "surprise" I had for him.
He was furious.
He yelled, and yelled some more. Said he didn't want cats, but grandkids from me (but dad, this is my new daughter) - just kidding I didn't say that.
I was defeated.
My dream of having a little cat friend for myself was never going to become a reality. He told me I had to get her out of the house by the time the sun was out, so I frantically started texting my friend telling her I couldn't keep her, that she had to tell me first so could ask my dad if he was okay with me having a cat, etc, etc. I was honestly devastated and sad, because I had fallen in love with her so fast and so hard already.
Morning came, and with it the meows of a little kitten who was starving to death. Boy! She was loud as heck! I fed her little furry ass, and then it was time to take her potty. Oh my God I thought, "I have never helped a kitten go to the bathroom, how the hell am I supposed to do this?" I helped her, and she wasn't doing anything. I was freaking out because I thought she was sick or something. Luckily she was just adjusting to the rythm of the house, and that wasn't a problem anymore.
I was heartbroken because I had to try and find someone to give her to, I had to say goodbye. But my mom told me that wasn't a problem anymore, she could stay. I think I cried a little in that moment.
I didn't want to leave her side. I was so in love with her, I just wanted to have her on top of me at all hours. Snuggling on my chest and feeling her soft little purrs in my ear. I was SO happy, you guys. I couldn't believe a small little animal would bring so much joy to my life in such an unexpected way.
Weeks passed, and evertyhing was going great. She was healthy, she was pouncing around, doing cat things. And I was mesmerized with her.
Up until one point, where things took a sudden turn.
The dreaded afternoon
One afternoon I noticed Artemisa wasn't walking properly. I told my mom, and we checked her up, but nothing was indicating that she was in pain or something similar. We quickly brushed off the subject, and came to the conclusion that she was probably just walking funny because of her big belly full of food (she loved to eat).
Two days passed, and instead of getting better, things got worse, until one afternoon where she just didn't move her back legs.
I felt so scared.
She couldn't walk and she felt frustrated and sad. I could see it in her eyes, she couldn't be the crazy little kitten she was before. We took her to the vet, but there wasn't a clear diagnose of what she might have been going through. Tests were made, but everything seemed perfect except for some bugs on her ears. The vet said she might have some brain damage, product of bad development during her mom's pregnancy, but it wasn't sure. So she got a treatment assigned, and we left.
But, since we live in Venezuela, and things are even harder here., we could not find the treatment.
One of the medicines the doctor told us to give her was IMPOSSIBLE to find, and my anxiety grew bigger, along with her sickness. She got better, and then two days later she wouldn't even move. During those days we would take extra care of her, and I think she knew what was happening, because she became extra cuddly and loving.
She still didn't walk properly, but we still loved her.
Some days passed, until we got to november.
Ah, bitter november.
One morning we noticed Artemisa wasn't coming out of her "cave" (I made her a "cave" with a box, a t-shirt and some blankets where she would hide from the world, and she loved it). We were very worried, because that wasn't her case at all, she never missed one meal, and there she was, still inside her cave.
We decided to go pick her up, and when we did, we noticed she had puked all over herself.
We were alarmed.
We tried to feed her a bland meal of just some carrots and chicken, but she ate just a tiny bit. She refused to have water or anything else, and minutes later she started throwing up again.
I decided to call the vet to make an appointment. This wasn't normal.
The kitten ate a little bit after that, but later on, she wasn't going to the bathroom. I tried to make her go, but nothing happened, although she tried to very hard.
When we went to the vet, she was in very serious pain, because she couldn't go to the bathroom, and her little belly was super swollen.
She got so many tests done that day, that I couldn't stop the tears while I waited in the waiting room, because she was being poked with needles, and ultrasounds, and she couldn't stop meowing in pain.
"My baby" I thought, "I'm gonna lose her, I can feel it".
We took her home with indications to not feed her, only give her water and a little bit of soup, because they were going to perform a procedure on her the next morning to help her go to the bathroon, and if that didn't help, the doctors were going to perform surgery on her tiny body, something dangerous, they said. She apparently had an obstructed intestine, product of a blood clot originated on her lower body region. Probably the reason why she couldn't walk either.
I didn't want to sleep that night.
The falling of a goddess
The morning after that terrible vet visit she wasn't herself at all. Artemisa wasn't moving, meowing, or doing anything except this movement where she gasped for air every once in a while. I knew things were not okay at all. Sadly, I had to leave for work that morning, so my mom was taking her to the vet again that day.
We don't really own a car, so she had to wait for a bus to go there.
My mom says she didn't notice, Artemisa wouldn't make a sound. But right when she was getting on that bus to take our kitten to the doctor to try and save her life, she noticed our little goddess had fallen asleep, forever.
Artemisa had died.
My mother tried to resucitate her, she tried to do what she could to bring her back, but nothing. She called the vet and he confessed he knew something like this was coming, but "they wanted to try whatever was possible to save her" but time was too short.
I cried so much when I got the news. People were staring at me, probably thinking someone from my family had died. And they were right.
When I got home, I refused to see her tiny little body, and me and my mom decided to bury her in our backyard, so she would always keep us company.
Sometimes I feel like I could have done more, sometimes I feel that I failed her, that she didn't get what she deserved. But then I remember we gave her so much love and affection that those thoughts go away.
She was so loved.
It feels really dumb to feel this much about a cat, because everytime I think about her, I cry a little (or a lot, like now). But she wasn't just a cat she was special, she wasn't like the others. She understood me, she helped me feel better, and she taught me so much about life in such a little time.
I'm grateful for that sunny august afternoon when she came into my life wrapped in blankets and fleas. That afternoon my life changed.
She taught us so much, about love, patience, taking responsability, and she taught my parents that cats aren't all that bad, after all. They both loved her so much, and our house hasn't been the same ever since. We're still finding cat hairs in our clothes.
Thank you, Artemisa. My goddess and protector. I will always love you.
A cat lover is called an Ailurophilia (Greek: cat+lover).