This is Limpy’s story, written by our founder, Lynn Chiche.
Although her home was a parking lot, Limpy was not just any stray who begged for scraps. She was, in fact, a sassy little calico who was loved by many.
In better days, she loved the sun warming her body as she napped in the parking lot, or a gentle breeze passing over her in the green grass. Or the bond she formed with so many who fell under her spell and diligently fed and cared for her day after day.
Although she allowed precious few to pet her, the priority was to remain aloof and in charge, thereby protecting herself. Perhaps it was that independent streak that attracted so many to her.
Limpy, so named because she was born with a back leg that caused her to limp, lived 11 years by Randazzo’s and under the cars in the Audi overflow parking lot. In 2016, the night guard in a building near the parking lot and a local veterinarian took the time to fix the few cats that were living there, Limpy being one.
The guard also fed them and was the only person she ever truly trusted. She was taken care of and felt safe in the fenced-in areas. There was a blue car with busted windows in the lot that was purposedly left there, and the cats used it for shelter.
Her favorite thing was lying in the sun in the grassy area adjacent to the lot early in the morning when it was cool. She began to rely on her caretaker and waited patiently each morning for him to arrive with breakfast. Eventually she would run up to meet him and follow him along the fence line to the designated feeding spot. He remained her most trusted friend.
Many years have passed since those better days. But through it all, she chose to be the master of her fate.
During the past year, street life took a terrible toll on Limpy. With all her years in the sun, cancer appeared near her nose, literally destroying her face, eroding the sinuses and her right eye, eating its way to the outside of her neck. She was in excruciating pain.
Those who cared for her were devastated as they watched her suffering day after day, but she refused all efforts to rescue her. When I was called to help and saw her condition, I was determined to win her over and end her pain.
I went alone to the parking lot and immediately spotted her under a car. Where else would she be? I sat on the cement 20 feet away and started talking to her in a low, soft tone. When she didn’t move, I moved closer. After 20 minutes, I was two feet away. I expected her to bolt like she had with so many other rescuers in the past, but she didn’t.
When I gently placed the net over her frail, tired body, it suddenly occurred to me that SHE had made the decision to surrender, not me. She had put up a good fight but realized she was losing. Stoic to the end. Cats are like that.
I suppose that’s the reason people have admired them for centuries. Down deep, we all wish we could be more like them.
I rushed her to our veterinarian, who confirmed what all her supporters already knew: there was no hope. Our vet sat with her quietly for 15 minutes until she was calm, then gently let her go.
I am so grateful I was instrumental in helping this little girl cross over the Bridge. She will be remembered and loved by many!
Thanks to all of you who cared, and I’m sorry I couldn’t have brought you a true happy ending. Special thanks to Erin, Kevin, and David. I couldn’t have written her story without their help.
Photo: Limpy in happier, healthier days.