Mollie Wright
10/23/83 – 3/1/08
By: Cathy Mack, LVT

She was cute as a button when I saw her. It was my first day at E.A.H.. I asked Jeanne Roach how long the Wright cats were boarding. When she explained to me she and her three children were “dropped off” since her owner went into a nursing home my heart skipped. “Hello little Mollie” I whispered. She looked up at me with squinty eyes, a smirk on her face and let out a very distinctive sounding “meooooow.”

A month went by as I settled into my new Virginia home. It was a cold January day and the end of a busy Saturday at E.A.H. While I was putting the Wright cats to bed little Mollie was yelling at her grown children; Monroe, Herbie and Amanda. I chuckled, as I couldn’t believe a 19 year old mama cat was still disciplining her kids. I thought to myself, she’s so tiny, why not give her a break and take her to my place for the weekend? I approached Dr. Kathi who was diligently writing up her records and asked her permission. “Oh yes, that would be nice, I’ll get together some of her meds and prescription diet,” said Dr. Kathi. Her medicine? Special food? It was just going to be for the weekend, a day and a half. As I was heading for the door with Mollie, Storm and Simba in tow, Dr. Kathi comes around the corner with, shall I say, an overnight bag containing fluids, needles, syringes, Zeniquin, Cosequin, k/d, her pink donut and of course her Pepcid. I said: “Dr. Kathi, why all this?” After a 20 minute explanation on all of Mollie’s care and learning she was in renal failure, I though good lord, well….I decided to take Mollie home for hospice care instead. I figured, what the heck, she’s 19, in kidney failure, and probably has only a few months to live..

A few months?! Not quite.. More like FIVE YEARS! Yes, 5 years of vet tech care for this little mouse of a cat. The first day home she immediately claimed my cat Seymour’s bed as her own and at the same time assigned herself as queen bee of her new household. Or, better – Queen Cat. Emma (my other elderly cat) immediately took Mollie under her wing and faithfully groomed the top of her head and licked her eye boogies daily. Soon my niece and nephew had nicknames for her, “Peanut" and "Old Lady Grumpy Baggy Bum.” Every night for five years she slept under my bed covers, pressed up against my tummy. She was my little snuggle safe. One day she came tearing out of the litter box in circles just like the Tasmanian Devil! She grabbed the first toy she saw and started batting it around. I yelled out; “Mollie, what in the world are you doing?! You should be in a wheelchair at your age!” I thought she was possessed. I described this strange Taz like behavior to Dr. Emily and she responded: “oh, that’s just her post poop euphoria.” Up until a couple months ago she still would have her P.P.E episodes.

I’ll miss my little Mollie. Sadly, her life came to an end today. Who knows, maybe she’s up there with Seymour stealing his food and bed and at the same time screaming at her children. She’s certainly putting everyone back in their place once again, I’m sure. I loved that darn cat. Maybe because she was so feisty and had such a strong will to live for such a sick, old, little girl.

Up until the very end she still managed to utter out her little Mollie meow. But this time it was just a whisper. As she drew in her last breath I finally said to her “Mollie, you were a great cat.”
Rest in peace old friend, until we meet again.