Piper’s Story

I was 21 years old when I adopted Piper from Missoula Animal Control’s display inside of PetSmart.

I was in my final year of college and was pretty desperate for a friend when my mom suggested I adopt a kitten that would take to my young adult (that is, unknown what the future would look like) lifestyle.

Enter Piper. Of course, at that time, Animal Control was calling her “Rebekah” and they charged me my life savings of $60 to adopt her. I still have that receipt.

It was evident right away that Piper was her own person. She was extremely talkative, enjoyed sleeping in my bathroom sink or in the tub, sat in the foot of the tub while I showered – yes, coming out soaking wet every single time. She helped my roommate with his homework while I was at work, helped me study for my own college exams, and even got to go to work with me as a drive-thru teller in a bank. She was a very busy kitty.

We moved residences quite frequently in those first few years. We lived in multiple different houses and even in an RV at a KOA campground for a while, where she would roam around the campground chasing deer in her harness with her leash trailing behind her – always knowing which RV to return to for her afternoon naps.

We ended up moving a total of ten times in our life together, and Piper never missed a beat with each move – change didn’t bother her like it did me.

In August of 2017, she disappeared without a trace. I spent days looking for her, calling her, imagining all of the reasons that would cause a rural cat to disappear. And five weeks later to the day, she came limping into my backyard, scrawny and alive and beautiful. The vet gave her a clean bill of health besides being malnourished and dehydrated.

It wasn’t long after that when our life encountered more upheaval as I went through a divorce. And, post-divorce, life brought Kelly into our lives.

The first time I met Kelly face-to-face, I arrived with Lucy (my heeler dog) and Piper in tow. Because Piper was a great traveler and it was far easier on us both to go places together instead of being separated, even for a day-trip or a weekend. I honestly have no idea what Kelly thought when I came bearing my cat – but I do know he welcomed us into his life with open arms and he fell in love with that darn cat, too.

And boy howdy, was there a lot to love.

While cats are known for being independent, especially when compared to their canine counterparts, Piper was anything but. She enjoyed being part of our lives. She slept with me for most of her life, although eventually she took to going to bed with me for a few hours and then spending the rest of her night on the couch until she heard the morning alarm go off, when she would make sure to be waiting outside the bedroom door.

She showered with me almost every day, supervised every meal cooked in the kitchen, laid on my lap while I worked on the computer or edited photos. She absolutely loved talking on the phone if you put it on speaker, would snuggle in to watch a movie or read a book, and asked to be outside with us if we were sitting on the porch and the weather was mild. She was a social girl.

I was thrilled to get to move her back to Montana in the Summer of 2022, and she was just as thrilled with her new home. She enjoyed the smaller house, where it was easier to keep tabs on us and she really, really liked the large stump in the middle of the front yard that was perfect for sharpening her claws and sitting perched off the ground to survey her kingdom. Occasionally she would venture further out, to see what all the minions were up to or she would find a spot around the back of the house to pretend to hunt, but mostly she just wanted to be where we were.

One of my favorite Piper-isms was her obsession with her realistic-looking toy mouse. She would carry it around the house, yowling at the top of her lungs and deliver it to me like a prized gift. It was the cutest thing ever during the day and only slightly less cute in the middle of night, when that darling yowling would wake me up and I’d be annoyed for about half a second.

In December of 2023, she had lost quite a bit of weight and soon became sick, so we headed into the vet to see what was going on. It was determined that she had a mass on her small intestine and through exploratory surgery, needed to be removed if possible. Miraculously, the entire mass was removed and Piper bounced back beautifully. She became a healthier version of herself and I once again thanked God for giving me more time with her.

Our life continued, like normal. And while I publicly celebrated her every January for our cativersary, I think it’s fair to say that she was celebrated and appreciated privately, every single day. She was so loved, so cherished, and it was not lost on me how lucky I was to have such a loyal best friend in my life.

When she started gaining weight in June, I thought I was crazy. I actually made light of my craziness with a friend a few days before I took her to the vet to have her examined. I mean, I worried when she lost weight back in December and now I was worrying because she was gaining weight? It seems like the definition of insanity.

I even told the vet that I felt crazy and I hoped I really was just being crazy. It turns out, I wasn’t.

On the evening of June 12^th, 2024, I was told that Piper’s abdomen was full of fluid. The cause of this was either a kitty illness that was rarely symptomatic known as FIP or cancer – both of which had the same outcome. There was nothing to be done and while she wasn’t in any pain, eventually she would stop eating and drinking and breathing would become difficult. “The beginning of the end” they said. Honestly, I kept waiting for the vet to come back and say he was mistaken, that it was fixable and my miracle girl would get fixed up and we’d go on living our cherished little life, together.

I took her home and struggled. The first 24 hours or so after that appointment were hard for me to gain my composure. I took time off work for the next few days to just be with her. I set up a bed next to my desk and when she wanted to be there, we worked. We also had pillows on the floor throughout the house and when she wanted to be there, or on the couch, or in bed… that’s where we were. I’m proud to say that for the last couple of days, I was mostly able to be ‘normal’ for her and talk to her about how blessed I was by her beautiful soul.

On Sunday, June 16^th, it was apparent that it was time to humanely let her go. She wasn’t eating or drinking and was no longer mobile. We showered one last time together. I took her outside to feel the fresh air and sunshine on her whiskers. We spent our morning snuggling on the couch, watching Friends, as a family.

Saying goodbye to her was the single hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I’m grateful for the time we had together and I’m hopeful that she knew she was loved and cherished until that very last second – and now I know she is loved and cherished in the most perfect way, being held by the most perfect arms, whole and healthy.

But I do not feel peace yet. Selfishly, I feel the biggest grief I have ever felt. Her presence is missed in a way I cannot explain.

For 13 years, Piper was the most constant and dependable part of my life. She gave me strength and courage when I didn’t feel strong or courageous. She comforted me when I was sad or anxious. She made me laugh and feel loved, needed.

Piper is laid to rest in our backyard, tucked in with her favorite toy mouse, wrapped in our favorite snuggling blanket. I am grateful that God gave me the gift of her friendship, and I am grateful that she got to take her last breaths in my arms.  

She was a one in a million cat, who will forever be missed.