Valerie Giles shares the story of adorable Snowflake in this guest blog post I first encountered a beautiful white cat one cold October evening in 2001 after I parked at Cedars Christian School and started walking towards the building to attend a meeting. A white cat followed me and tried to trip me four times on the short walk. Once inside, I asked the Principal about him. She told me that he had first appeared there in the summer and after the children came back in September, they started feeding him. Someone had canvassed the neighbourhood trying to see if any home was missing him – but no. The Principal had called the SPCA that morning to come and get him. I said I would take him if he were still in the lot when I went to leave. Sure enough, that faithful little boy was waiting and came up to me. I picked him up and petted him. I carried him to my Jeep and got in, holding him on my lap for a few minutes. I didn’t have a carrier but he seemed happy enough to climb into the back seat for the ride home. I brought him in the house and produced a nice meal of tuna and kitty kibbles. He seemed pretty happy with that and thereafter he got to sleep on a warm bed with me. Because he was used to wandering, I decided to keep him inside – and did that for months. The poor thing was so keen to climb – he even got up on top of my kitchen cupboards. Imagine how happy he was once he could explore the back yard with trees, a stream and a 40 foot long koi pond! The next morning, I called the SPCA to let them know I had brought home the cat from Cedars School and wanted them to know where he was just in case someone ever called looking for him to report him missing. That never happened. The next Saturday morning, I was downtown having brunch at the Coast Inn hotel. A little girl from Cedars School was there with her parents. After a few minutes, she was at my table saying, “You’re the lady who adopted Snowflake. Did you know that he has really pale eyes?” I thanked her for telling me his name (which I didn’t change) and promised to send reports about how he was doing. I did that just about every month for the rest of the year. Snowflake turned out to be a wonderful companion. He always slept near me and I found great comfort in his rhythmic purr. Whenever I gardened in the yard, he was my companion and actually spent time at the side of the pond watching the koi swim. He stuck close to me but eventually I found out that he also liked to go across the street to the neighbour’s house. They also had a pet door, and my neighbour told me that any time he pleased Snowflake would come in and curl up to sleep on their bed!!! A few years ago, I realized a longstanding dream of having a cute little Wendy house built in my rose garden. The name comes from the story of Peter Pan, where the boys built a cottage for Wendy to recover in after she escaped death. The United Kingdom boasts many Wendy houses with a central door and a window on either side. In my case, the structure serves as a little tea room where friends come to visit and get me to take breaks from gardening. Well, from Day One, Snowflake took a shine to the builder and was out there every day with him. Once the little house was finished, Snowflake considered it was his. I had an official opening complete with a ribbon cutting presided over by two mayors and an elegant buffet dinner to celebrate its completion. During the ceremony, almost on cue, Snowflake walked through the crowd and stood at the entrance with me, the builder and the mayors. Kathy Plett happened to capture that in one of her photos. That picture hangs on the wall and I am grateful to have it. After all, this was the cat who watched the place being created and was about to spend more time in it than anybody! Snowflake spent many afternoons asleep on the chair. Any day I didn’t get out there early enough, my neighbour would telephone to say, “Snowflake is sitting on the mat at the door of the Wendy house. He’s waiting to be let in.” I obliged every time, going out and unlocking it for him even before I was ready to begin gardening. It seemed like a horrible, dark cloud hung over my normally happy life in 2018. That year ten people significant and close to me died. I spent the year crying. Many times, Snowflake was there with me as if his job was to comfort me in my many losses. I was wishing 2018 away as December began and was determined to make the next year a happy one. Then, I noticed that Snowflake was beginning to fail. He seemed a little lethargic but no real change in appetite or habits. Every night as I read or watched television, he was right beside me. I took him to the veterinarian but there didn’t seem to be any apparent condition, other than the fact that he was 21 years old and had every right to slow down. In the days before Christmas, he seemed weak but not distressed or in any pain. I knew that he was declining rapidly and didn’t want to let him be in pain—especially with the clinic being closed for the Christmas holidays. I asked the veterinarian to prescribe a liquid painkiller I could syringe into his mouth if I thought he had pain or cried. I used that once, just in case. The last day of his life was December 27th. I spent the day holding him and in the early evening, he died in my arms. I kissed his sweet forehead and made the sign of the cross on it. I didn’t know what else to do, but that seemed appropriate. It occurred to me that losing my beloved cat was just the capper on a horrible year of sadness. But bless him for checking out before 2019 began. That allowed me to will a return to happiness with the New Year. I made it happen. But I still miss my dear cat and always will. Valerie Giles Prince George, B.C. Snowflake attends opening ceremonies for the magnificent Wendy house on September 16, 2015
with Valerie Giles, Mayor Lyn Hall (Prince George), Mayor Jeannette Townsend (Valemount), and Don Pickering (builder)
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