In memoriam: Hili

As most readers know by now, Hili—the beloved cat of Andrzej and Malgorzata, and then of Andrzej after Malgorzata passed away—died yesterday afternoon, or rather was “put to sleep” by the vet in Dobrzyn.  Hili had been under the weather for several days, and then stopped eating. On her first visit to the vet, she was suspected of having pancreatitis, an inflammation of the pancreas. The vet started Hili on IV fluids with antibiotics and prescribed force feeding. But still Hili ate and drank very little, and was losing weight.

On the next visit, the vet said that, well, Hili might have liver or kidney disease and advised continuing the fluids.  Hili did not resume eating or drinking. Finally, on a third visit the vet took an X-ray and found a tumor on her liver, saying he suspected cancer all along. An operation was scheduled, and, when they opened Hili up, they found a tumor that had metastasized throughout her innards.  According to Andrzej’s wishes, Hili was not brought out of anesthesia, but was euthanized while still under.  It was a merciful death, and Andrzej’s only comfort is that Hili is no longer suffering.

What can I say about a cat I knew for over a decade, a cat that, along with Andrzej and Malgorzata, made me fly to Poland every year or two? I’ve written about Malgorzata and Andrzej, of course, and how their warm hospitality and strict work ethic provided the ideal place for me to chill out while working.  Andrzej and Malgorzata would sit at their computers all day writing Listy, while I would lie on the small green couch and try to lure Hili to sleep on my chest or lie beside me, like this:

Hili was her own cat, and she would come to you on her own terms.  When she was through sleeping with me in the bed, she’d go to the bedroom door and leave, most often to go sleep with Andrzej and Malgorzata. She would tolerate being picked up, but barely.  She was independent and opinionated, and that gave rise to the personality that Andrzej confected for her, a personality expressed in the daily dialogues on this site. In the pictures below you can see that she’s was sometimes opposed to being held.

After a few visits it became clear that I was greatly enamored of this cat—so enamored that I had Hiroko, in Japan, embroider Hili’s likeness on a shirt. It’s a precious garment:

Although she liked me, sometimes, she clearly loved Malgorzata and Andrzej. She would often sit on their laps or their desks as they worked:

Malgorzata didn’t often like her picture being taken, but Hili didn’t mind:

Hili slept with Andrzej and Malgorzata, but I believe she favored Malgorzata, who would complain because Hili slept on her face. Here they are in the morning:

Common scenes in the house:

Szaon, another stray, was tamed by Andrzej over a period of months and then learned to live inside. She was a very loving cat who became a fast friend of Hili.

Hili especially loved Cyrus, the adopted stray dog, and they often cuddled up together. During walkies to the river, Hili would follow Cyrus:

Here’s the whole happy family: Hili, Cyrus, Malgorzata, and Andrzej. I love this picture.  Alas, Cyrus passed away several years ago.

Hili showed up about twelve years ago, brought to Andrzej and Malgorzata’s doorstep by a little girl who was trying to give away the kittens in a litter.  Here’s Kitten Hili, sitting on the jar of coffee.  When she got bigger, she still sat in the same spot, but it took more jars to support her.

I loved the photo of Kitten Hili, and so made it into a mug which I gave Andrzej and Malgorzata.  I then took a picture of Hili drinking milk from the mug:

. . . and then I made a mug with the photo of Hili drinking milk from the mug:

There was one more mug to go, with the picture above on it. I believe Andrzej still has them.

Hili was a cat, not a person, but she knew her position in the household: she was The Queen. She would meow to go outside, but when she wanted in, she refused to meow at the door. She would jump onto the windowsill where Malgorzata and Andrzej could not avoid seeing her. One of them would then have to go outside and fetch her. But you couldn’t just call her and have her jump down and follow you inside through the door: you would have to pick her up off the windowsill and carry her inside in your arms.  She insisted on this throughout her life, though when she was left out on warm nights she’d curl up on the veranda before getting fetched.

Here she’s waiting, and, on another occasion, I went out to fetch her (picture by Andrzej):

Hili was always a climber, though she did less of it when she was older (and a bit heavier!):

Finally, a group of photos showing the many moods of Hili:

Basking in the sun on the outside windowsill:

 

Sleepy:

Formal portraits:

Her memory is a blessing, and we’ll miss her terribly: