Back in 1999 my grandmother was nearing the end of her life and my sister assigned me the task of dealing with Gramie's cat. I flew to Colorado for a final visit and made arrangements to return with her, with the intention of placing her with a good client, since I wasn't in the market for one more cat. Well, just a few days later Gramie passed away, and I got cold feet about giving away what seemed like the last living part of her. So Dusty has been with us ever since.
She lives at the clinic, where until a couple of years ago she preferred to spend her time at the front desk, waiting for attention from clients. When she developed arthritis she quit jumping on countertops and now spends most of he time at my feet in the office, tucked into her little bed. Change of any sort causes her great distress, so I am not highly motivated to bring her home and she is content where she is. Though she got along well enough with Mummy and Boochi, she is afraid of other cats and prefers to do her job solo.
Dusty recently celebrated her 18th birthday. In spite of hyperthyroidism and renal failure for the past three or more years, and half a dozen medications, and fluid treatments three times a week, she just keeps ticking. She's our own in-house "energizer bunny". No longer a fan of daily brushings, she looks less tidy than in years past, and has lost a little weight. But she still stomps around, fussing about every little thing and staring at us when she wants catnip.
She might even come to the front desk to say hi the next time you stop in.
