Saying goodbye to Beta Cat

For many years I have referred to our cats on social media as Alpha and Beta. The reason for this shorthand was to avoid confusion.

The girls predate our marriage by several years. Long before I met my wife Lily, my roommate and I had named our two new rescues Callie and Lillie. Neither name was derived from the calla lily flower. The names are actually what happens when two first year seminary students attempt to give creative Hebrew names to cats while consuming adult beverages.

It turns out that the word house cat does not appear in Scripture. As a result, Alpha received the name “lo-kelev” which means “not a dog.” Callie was a loose English approximation. Beta was initially dubbed Leroy after the Hebrew phrase “lo-roi,” meaning “cannot see” due to an extensive case of kitten crud she brought home from the farm. Leroy became Lillie a week later once she was old enough to accurately determine her sex.

Lily changes things for Lillie

Everything worked well on the feline name front until a certain PhD candidate from the University of Delaware entered my life. Very quickly it became confusing for my friends to decipher whether I was referring to Lillie or Lily in my social media posts. Instead of reciting the entire litany every time I wanted to share a fluffy cat picture, I eventually began to refer to our fuzzies as Alpha and Beta online. It was just simpler for everyone.

For a decade and a half this shortcut worked well and my social media feeds were filled with a steady diet of two of the floofiest creatures to ever walk God’s green earth. Our girls were well on their way to becoming influencers in their own right.

All was well until this summer when the wheels started to fall off our two feline wagons. Alpha/Callie started to have hearing and mobility problems while Beta/Lillie began to lose weight and experienced difficulty grooming herself. Eventually she was diagnosed with kidney problems and put on thyroid medication. While Callie began to rebound, it was becoming increasingly clear that Lillie was on her last lap.

We kept up with her prescriptions, helped her with her grooming, and for the last couple months allowed her to have any kind of food her little heart desired in a desperate ploy to get calories into her body. Even though she smelled funny and moved stiffly, she was happy, energetic, and relaxed until the last couple of days.

Feline hospice care

Over the weekend she started to hurt, have trouble walking, and began to shake and whimper. Her kidneys were finally shutting down. Yesterday was her final evening with us. We gave her pain meds, and made her a special bed right next to her water and food bowl. We stayed with her, cuddled her, and made sure she was as comfortable as possible. Yesterday Lillie took her last breaths. Today we buried her in our backyard.

For 18 years the team of Lillie and Callie have been a part of my life. They outlived my seminary career, a couple of internships, and finally became a vital part of the life Lily and I share together. As littermates, they have always been a duo. They are nearly identical and we have often joked they share a brain. Now, it is going to be Callie on her own. The nicknames Alpha and Beta can be retired because Lillie will no longer be confused with Lily.

Thanks, Lillie, for the memories. You were a delightful little sock stealing, mouse-cuddling, poorly manicured attention floosie. You made a huge impact on my life and are going to be deeply missed. It was a great run.