Last week, we said goodbye to a piece of SAFE: we let our old barn cat Thelma go. Though many of our volunteers never even saw her, they heard her croaky meow echoing down from her apartment in the loft, or seen a pair of little eyes tracking them on their journeys to retrieve a blanket. Thelma came with the property, and was very much a Barn Cat — keeping out of sight, hissing when she was seen, and altogether taking care of herself.
Barb is one of our long time volunteers and is most known around the barn for her care of our barn cats, Thelma included. Barb took care of Thelma in the fullest sense of the word. She fed and watered her, yes, but not before first troubleshooting the types of food she most enjoyed (fish broth, yes, but NO to fish-flavored food). During the cold months, she provided Thelma with a supply-chain altering number of hand warmers to help keep her toasty, and in the hot seasons set her up with a cooling mat and fly traps to keep the bugs down. Twice a day, every day, Barb was there to check on Thelma. In her back corner of the loft, this little cat was treated like a queen. Slowly, Thelma began to come out of her shell (or cat cave), and let Barb get closer and closer to her until she would tentatively allow for a pet — on her terms, of course.
Through patience (and Barb’s self-proclaimed stubbornness), Thelma began to resemble a domestic cat. True, really only with Barb, but she certainly became more amenable to being around people in general, and allowed for a few others to pet her. Not too long ago, Thelma allowed for an exam by vets, a type of handling that we had never thought possible before. At this appointment, she even let the vet give her a shot.
Last week, Thelma, who likely was well on her way to twenty, if not already there, saw a more intense decline in her physical mobility, not to mention the ongoing health issues she was already dealing with as a cat of a certain age. After a particularly bad weekend, we decided that it was time. So, last week we helped Thelma out of her pain, and best of all, Thelma let us. Her passing was incredibly peaceful, at the place she had known for her entire life. Through countless hours, Barb did for Thelma what we do for all the wild things that come through our gates, help them learn to trust, to let down, to be at peace.
Barb has donated to Thelma’s care (not to mention our three boys) up until and through the end of her life. Without her contributions, Thelma’s story would have been a lot different, and she would not have ended up with such a kind end. Rest easy, sweet Thelma, forever free and out of pain.
