In Memory of Lunita 5/22/2022 – 1/25/2025
Life can be brutal in unwarranted, unfair ways. Precious lives in need of protection can find themselves quite literally out in the cold, or in this case…the sweltering heat of Florida. Lunita knew the harsh realities of life from kittenhood, subjected to a life on the streets. She was tiny, fragile, and a consistent target for bully cats and wildlife. We dread to think of it, but we’re sure every day was a struggle for this tiny, timid girl.
Life can be brutal, but it can also be so beautiful. A very wonderful soul came across Lunita. She noticed her plight and took her under her wing with the intent of giving her a forever home. Despite that not being possible when her feline leukemia test came back positive, this kind woman didn’t stop there. She searched far and wide for a chance, a glimmer of hope, that this precious cat could know the comfort of a home and never again have to return to the streets.
She stumbled across us. Initially, our census was full. We tried to give her resources, but no one could take her. As a last-ditch effort, she offered to fly from Florida to Texas to hand deliver Lunita herself. Deeply moved by her devotion, we couldn’t say no. So, Lunita boarded a plane with the woman who saved her life, and to Shadow Cats they came. It was a tearful drop-off, but she knew Lunita would be in good hands.
She couldn’t have possibly known how right she was! Lunita has always been a little more timid around people, but she blossomed for her housemates in Cookie’s Annex. Bo joined the ranks of that room around the same time as Lunita, and they immediately took to each other. Bo (in his much more fit days, before he started testing the integrity of our cat trees) would sprawl out, and Lunita would mimic him. She’d inch her way closer to him. And if Bo walked off, Lunita would be bounding behind him not unlike a lovestruck Pepe Le Pew. Bo was a little clueless, so he didn’t often return her affections, but that did nothing to stop Lunita from trying.
It was comical, honestly, to see her in a flirtatious mood. She’d roll around Bo, on top of him, beside him, and he would stoically remain in place. She also became fast friends with Bebe, though Bebe seemed to be the enthused one of the two in this circumstance. Lunita remained wary of people for a while, but we could watch happily through the Annex’s windowed door and know that Lunita was living her best life.
There was even some relationship drama brewing in Annex, usually reserved for Harmony of all rooms. Orca came to Shadow Cats, and Lunita was immediately smitten. Can you tell that she had a type? If you were loving on Orca, Lunita would soon follow. Something about his energy made her yearn for human connection in a way that was so funny to see. You’d be petting Orca and here Lunita would come, rubbing her tiny little face on your knuckles despite refusing you at every other turn. But she still held Bo first in her heart, and more than once we came across scandalous telenovela-esque scenes of Lunita and Bo cuddling with Orca looking mournfully upon them, as though he were the picture of fidelity. Spoiler alert: he’s not.
But Bo, our sweet blind boy, had to end their little entanglement sooner than any of us hoped. He passed on, and we honestly weren’t sure how sweet Lunita would cope with his loss. She carried on, but it wasn’t too long before she started having medical issues of her own. She had a seizure one day, and after a second episode, we realized we were going to have to figure out how to treat this little spitfire. Lunita was a cat we handled sparingly, if at all, due to her temperament with people.
Even so, she made exceptions. Caitlin, one of our technicians, formed a very sweet bond with Lunita. She still had her spicy streak, but she would let Caitlin do surprising things like pet her freely, and even rub her belly, that the rest of us couldn’t really fathom. Caitlin took the time to take Lunita under her wing, a continuation of the love felt by the woman who saved her, and Lunita recognized that. She chose her person. We were hopeful that with the strides Caitlin made with her, treatment was possible. We even used her tendency to come out when Orca was getting attention to our advantage.
We tried valiantly for months to medicate her, but it came to a point where we realized that for her safety, we had to stop. She didn’t have any seizures that we were aware of for some time, and she lived life normally and to the fullest. Though still wary of most people, she went back to asking for attention during the usual times. She even, toward the end, allowed a few special exceptions. Maybe, in the end, Lunita finally realized she was at home. She’d ask for attention from volunteers, she’d play with toys when they came out, and she let staff who were convinced that they’d never be able to pet her do just that.
Lunita, through over a year of hard work and dedication in dismantling her protective walls brick by brick, was home. Sometimes it takes a day, sometimes it takes a year, but there is nothing more beautiful than when a cat finally realizes they’ve made it. Lunita, a cat who was subjected to cruelty and fear on the streets, knew the warmth of a sunbeam while sprawled out on a shelf. She knew love, from both people and other cats. She knew fun, she knew excitement, she knew that she never had to worry about missing a meal ever again. Finally, Lunita blossomed, and she did so beautifully.
We were shocked to come in one morning and find Lunita unsteady on her feet. We thought maybe her seizure disorder had progressed and fretted over the tough call rolling in from the horizon line. We were even more shocked when we got the results of her bloodwork back. Her body was failing from a mass that we never anticipated would be there. We knew we had to let her go, and our hearts broke to do it.
Held in the arms of those who loved her, who could finally freely touch her petite little toe beans and admire just how soft her beautiful fur was, Lunita passed on. Our time with our felvies never lasts as long as we wish it could. But it’s our finite existence that brings impact. It’s our ending that emphasizes our existence. It’s living, despite the finality of breathing, that makes life beautiful. That for that breath, for that moment, the blink of an eye to the cosmos but a lifetime to us, we were together. We mattered, together. Lunita mattered here, to us, to you. That such a tiny life could warm the hearts of others without even intending to, that she could move us to tears in her absence, is a blessing that feels like a curse at that moment.
But that doesn’t make it less of a blessing. And we were blessed to have known this timid yet spicy little spitfire, this flirtatious little cat who had enough love in her heart to spare despite all the trials and tribulations she’d known in her short life. Lunita was here, she was with us, and though her time with us was short, she mattered.
Now, Lunita approaches the rainbow bridge. She approaches the precipice of forever where there is no sickness, there is no hardship, there is no fear. She can look out into the distance with those wide eyes, upon a glade of endless and eternal possibility. A familiar pair of eyes look back at her from across the rainbow bridge, patiently waiting just for her—once blind, now they can see. Our sweet Bo, our gentle giant, sees our Lunita for the first time, and what a sight her free soul must be.
Thank you to Lunita’s sponsors, Susan K and B. G. Thank you to the volunteers who waited patiently for her to come out of her shell and loved her regardless. Thank you to the staff who tried, sometimes tearfully, to treat Lunita through a difficult time. Thank you for your tenderness, your resilience, your caring, and your endless patience. Thank you to everyone who saw this silly, crazy girl and thought she was just the coolest cat, quirks included.
Lunita, we love you. And we always will.
Lunita had 2 Sponsors
Susan Kaiwi
B Galipp