In Memory of Stevie 10/15/2019 – 8/15/2025
Like so many that came before her, Stevie had been living on the streets of Dallas. Many cats make a living as community cats, but street life is made that much harder with problems like feline leukemia and vision issues. When she was evaluated by veterinarians, it became clear that Stevie had no vision at all. This, on top of her feline leukemia diagnosis, meant that going back into the streets wasn’t an option. SPCA of Texas reached out for options, and Shadow Cats answered the call.
In October of 2020, at the height of a very uncertain time period, Stevie made her way to the Sanctuary and became a bright spot for all. Stevie, despite all the odds stacked against her, seemed to thrive. Her intuition was remarkably powerful, and despite being a newcomer, she seemed to know just where to find the litter boxes and the comfiest beds to make herself right at home.
Due to her lack of sight in either eye and the problems that could have stemmed from keeping them, we made the decision to have an enucleation done. It didn’t bother Stevie, of course, because she didn’t know the difference! Somehow, with time, Stevie’s intuition became even greater. It felt like she’d taken a page from Daredevil and his “world on fire” sense map. Through supersense or perhaps echolocation that could rival a whale’s, Stevie continued to impress us. She was spry, playful, and loved to toss around a spring or mouse toy…and always knew the exact spot that it landed.
We accommodated her by trying to keep familiar items in similar places so as not to disrupt her routine. Somehow, even still, when it was time for a well-loved cat tree or toy to go, Stevie seemed to know. She didn’t seem to rely on memory as much as she relied on her own senses. It’s what made her such an expert climber. She would scale the high shelves, find herself on the top rung of a cat tree, and not once did we have to worry about her. Stevie navigated her world with the precision and bravery of an adventurer.
And oh, how our Stevie loved those catio shelves. Stevie acted kind of like a very excited kid at the beach, swimming endlessly and only returning to shore to pop open the cooler and have a snack. She would spend all day outside, lounging on shelves, chirping at birds, sunbathing, so much so that sometimes you only saw her come in at the pre-ordained 3PM wet food dinnertime! This wasn’t a summer exclusive, either. Stevie loved the outside so much that during the wintertime we’d have to get her nice fluffy sweaters to keep her forever-kitten build nice and fleece-warm. As such, she was a natural choice for an adorable Christmas sweater at our open house! And she was, of course, always on Santa’s nice list.
On top of being incredibly intelligent, frighteningly intuitive, and adventurous, Stevie was also distractingly adorable. She was always an independent sort of gal, so getting Stevie on your lap was something to brag about indefinitely. She’d purr endlessly, and on top of having this cute, tiny little kitten appearance compared to some of our beefier cats, Stevie’s little meow was equally adorable. Everything about Stevie just made you want to swaddle her up and carry her around in your arms. She was just a precious, kind, warm, curious little creature.
Unfortunately, her kidneys began failing. Many cats with kidney disease can live many years past diagnosis with the proper treatment and care, but in the case of some of our feline leukemia cats, the virus seems to attack the kidneys directly, causing a quick progression. Despite all we did, even with hospitalization, her kidney values continued to deteriorate. We knew that her feline leukemia had flipped “on” and began to take its toll on her body. The final gift we could give Stevie after five beautiful years of happiness, love, and belonging was the gift of a peaceful passing.
Surrounded by those she loved dearly, Stevie made her rounds. She walked through the circle, stopping at each person, each gentle nudge and sweet purr an acceptance, not a goodbye…but rather, “See you later.” Stevie curled up sweetly, like she was settling into a wonderful afternoon nap, and passed. Tears fell around her, laughs and memories shared, and the sky itself seemed to grieve, peppering us with raindrops as we returned to the sanctuary. Losing Stevie feels like losing a bit of the sun. The grief is hard. Sometimes, it feels like a heavy coat resting on your shoulders. What lightens the load is knowing just how lucky we were to know Stevie at all, to be blessed by her inquisitive spirit, her resilience, and her beauty.
Now, Stevie stands at life’s crossing. She takes tentative steps over the rainbow bridge, her keen senses overwhelmed with sight restored. Stevie can take in all the beautiful sights she never knew, the endless glade sprawling with vibrant wildflowers, and the faces of all of the friends she’d made during her beautiful life at Shadow Cats. She can chirp at the birds, scale tree bark for her perfect perch, and feel the wind blowing along her whiskers once more, her favorite pastime. Stevie leaves this life with the culmination of the love she’d gathered, manifested in the beautiful life she’ll live in eternal peace.
Thank you to her wonderful sponsors, Amy J, Irene K, Lori H, and Jennifer B. Thank you to the wonderful volunteers who spent ample time playing with and loving this precious girl. Thank you to the wonderful staff who loved our little wallflower, and paid close attention to all of her little intricacies, always treating all of our kitties like one of their own. Thank you to the devotion of the veterinary staff at Vista Vet who cared for her. Thank you to anyone who ever looked on in awe of Stevie playing as though she’d never lost her sight at all. Stevie was different, and so very loved because of it.
We love you, Stevie. We always will.
Stevie had 4 Sponsors
Amy Juried
Irene Knott
Lori Harris
Jennifer Bristow