You Will Always Be My Baby

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The way I write my stories are pretty organic. I can be doing the dishes, taking a shower, or anything regular – and the title will come to me.




After that I tend to know what it’ll be about, then I envision the graphic, and boom! Next thing you know, I’m typing.




Well the same happened for this story, but I added in an extra step: procrastination.




Because it’s a story about my baby Lucy.




The people loved Lucy, and when she suddenly passed away everyone wanted to know what happened. And although I believe it was of genuine concern, the “don’t know how to grieve” in me just couldn’t talk about it.




But something I’ve learned, the hard way, is that things you don’t talk about won’t just disappear. No matter how much you stuff it, it’s still inside of you. So in an effort to get it all out, for my sake, here’s what happened to Lucy…




Lucille “Lucy” DoubleU was “three years old” when I got her. I put that in quotation marks because she was really nine. But the worker I was talking to was new and got the files mixed up.




So instead of getting an in-her-prime cat, I got a nine year old grown woman! Who happened to have a hyperthyroid condition. She stood out to me among the rest of the cats not only because of how pretty she was, but because she was off to herself. 




There were clusters of cats together: three here, two there, then there was Lucy. I walked up to her and asked, “hey cutie! What you doing over here all by yourself?” Then the owner responds by saying, “this is Lucy, other cats are bullies so she tends to stay to herself.”





This melted my heart because, same. I’ve been bullied, ostracized, outcasted, whatever you want to call it, more than a few times in my day, and like Lucy I tend to just stay to myself. It’s safer that way.




So boom, after realizing we had this in common, and realizing the fact that she was nine instead of three (aka she had a good amount of training), I decided Lucy was the baby for me! I couldn’t take her home same day though because she was considered “special needs” since she had a thyroid issue. So I had to come the following day so they could give her some tests and have her medicine for me.




Next day comes. and I remember them telling me to put her in the bathroom when I get home and close the door so she could get familiar with a small room before exploring the whole house. Apparently cats like to take their time getting acquainted.




Not my baby.




I tried that bathroom thing and she was itching to get out! She made herself right at home and I was officially somebody Momma! 





Now I got Lucy my last year of living in Chicago, so in 2021, and like any new parent, it was an adjustment. Lucy, as sweet as she was, had a spicy side to her! Just like her Momma. It didn’t come out often, but when it did you knew she meant business!




And just like her Momma, Lucy was friendly. When people would come over she wasn’t one of those scary cats who would go in the other room and hide. Naw, Lucy wanted to know what’s tea! She’d sit right in the middle of me and whoever was over and soak it all in.




Now when it comes to men, I only introduced my baby to one man and she did NOT like him. She used to be giving him the side eye and would never let him rub her.




Cause that baby knew that mf wasn’t no good! And when I finally left him I feel like she was in her head like, “finally, dang!”




Speaking of leaving, I decided in June 2022 that I wanted to move to Georgia. If you read Bye Chi, then you know how all that went down (and if you didn’t read it, check it out! I’ll put the link below).




I knew I was going to drive down and hoped that Lucy would cooperate. Cause one thing about my baby, she hated that cage! Every time I had to take her to the vet she would cause a fit! Which again, same! I can vividly remember acting a fool when I was younger while my Momma would try to put earrings on me. Swearing up and down that it hurt! But did it? Or was I being dramatic? Same thing I could ask Lucy. Does it hurt getting in this cage or are you being dramatic? Exactly.




So we move to Georgia and life is different. My job at the time was getting more and more hectic, while my mental health was getting more and more impacted. I spent weeks down and in bed. No desire to shower, no desire to do my hair, no desire to do anything. 




I was even neglecting my child. Of course I was still feeding her and doing her litter but there were no cuddles, no kisses, and no quality time.




So much to the point that Lucy got sick of it and hopped on the bed (something she knows not to do) and gave me the most stern look. Like one of those black momma “getcho ass over here” looks. You know, when the mouth all scrunched up? But I think it was Lucy’s way of telling me enough was enough, and that I needed to get out of this funk.



So eventually I did, and next thing you know I quit my job (without one lined up) and now it was just me and my broke bestie out in the world with no bread (read my story on quitting my job, almost losing my car, and being broke af here. Will also post below).




I was out of work for three months and during that time I am so happy I had my Lucy. We didn’t have much, but we had each other. 




And during my out-of-work time, I joined TikTok. I had the time and was like, why not? Let’s see what this young folk app is all about. I didn’t have much going on and wasn’t really sure what to post, so I started with the closest thing to me: Lucy.




I’d show our mornings, which consisted of me filling up her food and cleaning her litter.




I’d post great-ready-with-me’s, and Lucy would always be in the background following me around.



I even posted me giving her her medicine, and so many cat moms and dads reached out saying how their baby had the same condition.




Long story short, Lucy was the star of my TikTok. She was Gladys and I was the Pips. She was Beyonce and I was Farrah. She was David Ruffin, and wasn’t nobody coming to see me Otis.




But that was my baby! And I loved how the people loved on her.



So her sudden and tragic passing was shocking to them too…




I don’t know if you can tell, but I’ve been stalling. I’ve written two pages so far, dreading what I need to talk about next… her passing.




And again, I’m not talking about this to give yall the tea, I’m talking about it to grieve properly. To be able to fully process a traumatic event and get that heaviness up off my body. Because even though it’s been 5 months, I can still feel it. Even right now, I am starting to feel anxious, nervous! About reliving such a traumatic time. The writer in me wants to get as detailed as possible, but the hurt me doesn’t want to. So I’ll give it the best I can, in an effort to paint the full story, but once I can’t take it no more I’m stopping. Deal? Deal.





July 11, 2023

I get home from the gym around 8PM and to my surprise Lucy did not greet me at the door. She always greets me at the door.




But eventually she walked up and says hi, very slowly may I add. 




So as I’m preparing my post-workout smoothie, I can tell my baby is walking really slow. I’m instantly, “what’s a matter stink?” and she doesn’t look up.



Now my baby know all her nicknames (stink, stinka butt, Mommy’s baby, etc.) so in this moment I knew something was wrong.




So I did what any parent would do, I went and got that baby a treat (her favorite ones: Temptations). I put it on the ground right in front of her and to my surprise, she didn’t eat it.



Now, I’m like okay what’s really going on?




As I’m examining her face, my baby back legs collapse. And I am shook. I instantly cry out “Lucy was wrong??” As she tries to stand back up again.




I’ve never been in this kind of situation before. My parents don’t live in Georgia, my Aunt doesn’t live in Georgia, so I Facetime my next of kin, my best friend London. 




I’m crying, panicking, and showing her Lucy. At this point, not only were Lucy’s legs giving out but she was struggling to lift up her head. London could instantly tell something was wrong, and after calming me down she offered to help me find vets in the area. 




We get off the phone and Lucy is laying down. She seems better, just really sleepy. So I text London and say I think we’re good until the morning…




But soon after, London sends me a 24 hour chat link from Chewy. Apparently you could tell them the condition your baby was in and they’d give you advice on next steps.




Well after chatting with the woman, she urged me to take Lucy to the emergency room tonight. Explaining that because of her age and what I described, she highly recommended not waiting.




At this point, I’m shocked. Lucy has never had any medical issues with me. My baby has always been perfectly fine, what could be going on? How did all this happen??




After telling London the news, she find us a 24 hour vet and offers to come with me. I am so thankful she did, because like many people, I don’t know how to handle this kind of stuff. I may not be freaking out, but I do get really quiet and be in my head. So it was nice having my sister with me. 




We’re at the doctor’s office and they take my baby to the back. At this point it’s around midnight and it was so heartbreaking seeing so many pet owners bringing their babies into urgent care. You could feel the tension and sadness in the waiting room and I was right along with them.




After having Lucy for some time, they came back and let me know she was extremely dehydrated. They informed me that they could do one of the following:

  • Keep her for two days and run some tests: $2700

  • Keep her overnight and run some tests: $1200

  • Give her a shot of hydration until I could take her to the vet in the morning: $300




Now mind you, I was back working, but if you’ve ever been out of work then you know those first couple months back that ain’t really your money. That’s the car note people money, that’s rent money, so to say I didn’t have the extra funds to pay for this would be understatement. But I’d do anything for my baby! So I moved some cash around and got the hydration shot.





We make our way home around 2AM and I’m exhausted. I call off work because them people, that job, was not worth time away from my sick baby.




I made us a pallet on the living room floor and kept an eye on my baby all night. I prayed, cried, and begged that she’d pull through up until I fell asleep.



On that floor it was just me, her, and a teddy bear my Granny gave me when I was six…





The next day comes and unfortunately, Lucy was not better. If anything, my baby seemed worse. She can no longer walk, so she’s scooting around. And she’s not eating, not regular food and not her favorite treats. At this point I am emotionally exhausted. It’s like, in situations like this you want to have faith. You want to believe she’ll pull through. You have people praying for her, you’re praying for her, but then you look at her face and she’s just out of it.




Not to mention the weight drop. My baby ain’t never been a thickums, but she was a nice size! Giving slim-thick (like her Momma). But in a matter of hours, my baby had shrunk. She was so small, so frail, I could literally feel the bones in her tummy and back when I rubbed her.




At this point I’m calling around to different vets and apparently everybody likes to be closed on Wednesdays! But I find a place that could take us. I didn’t care to shower, I didn’t have an appetite so I didn’t want to eat, I just wanted to make sure my baby was good.




So I scoot her in her cage (there was no fight this time so I knewww something was really wrong because my baby hate that cage) and we were off to the vet.




I get there and Lucy just looked so sad. So down. So tired. 




We go in the exam room and although her eyes were open she just seemed lifeless. And at this moment, I started to think about a new possibility: Lucy dying.




For the last 24 hours I didn’t think about her dying. Yes, she was sick, but I just knew there could be some kind of shot, or pill they could give to her to get her back to her normal self.




But being in that exam room really put things into perspective. Lucy was not okay.




While waiting on the nurse, I cried my eyes out. Holding my baby close and telling her everything would be okay. At this point her eyes couldn’t focus. I could tell she could hear me but it’s like she couldn’t move her eyes to look my way. She was just blankly staring.




I took some photos but I’d dare not to post them. I don’t even want to see them, but just know they’re bad.




My Aunt, who had been supportive since I told her about Lucy being sick called to check in. I’m crying telling her about Lucy’s current state, then the nurse walks in. She was black, which gave me a little more hope, and said she was going to take Lucy to the back so the doctor could examine her.




While Lucy is gone, my Aunt is praying for me and consoling me. At this point my eyes are so heavy, I had been crying for the last 12 hours, I felt hopeless, confused, and empty.




Then the doctor walks in.




He looks me right in the eyes after introducing himself and says, “Lucy is extremely sick. If ten is the worst, I’d say she’s a nine.”




My heart sinks and the tears continue to flow.




He did however say I had a few options:

  • Let them hook her up to an IV so they can run tests for a few days: $3600

  • Let them keep her overnight to monitor her: $2600

  • Let them put her down: $600




He also mentioned that most cats in her position don’t make it through all the tests and soon pass away. 




I know I’m typing this very coldly, but the doctor was pretty nice. He was black too, which I liked. 




Me on the other hand? I’m a wreck. Face full of water, nose running. And all I could think to ask was, how did this happen? What do you think went wrong??




Then he mentioned how this is common with older cats who have hyperthyroidism. And how they are really good at hiding when they’re sick, because in the wild they can’t appear vulnerable. But this usually works against them because once the owner realizes they’re sick, it’s usually too late.




Then he asks my thoughts on next steps and which one I’d like to go with.




Now yall, I just told yall I ain’t have no money for the $300 bill from the night before. So I really ain’t have no money for the $3600 expense. They ran my credit and I did not get approved for a payment plan either. And I didn’t have money to put her down. So I asked, “what happens if I can’t afford any of it?”




He sighed.




And suggested that I take her home and enjoy these last few nights with her.




I was broken. And through the tears asked, “but what happens if she passes away at home?”




He looked at me and said, “We’ll give you the number to pet control and if she passes away in your home they’ll come get her free of charge.”




So I had to pack my sick baby up and take her home.




The car ride was something I’ll never forget. My baby’s meows decreased and decreased and eventually she could not meow any more. Her eyes were bucked and she was gasping for air. The whole 35-minute ride home.




As I took her upstairs, I made her as comfortable as I could. Laying her head on the blanket they gave me when I got her the year before.




My baby was exhausted, still gasping for air, still appearing lifeless, but was holding on.




I on the other hand, was in a state of shock. Just 24 hours ago, my baby was fine. We were just in the bathroom together, we were just exchanging kisses, we were just binging Real Housewives. So now, for her to be so sick so fast, I just couldn’t wrap my head around it.




Although I was hopeful, I had a feeling she didn’t have long. And I could not bear to see her take her last breath. Not after all this! So I got in my bed, turned on one of my Chrsitian books and tried to relax… eventually falling asleep. 




When I got up an hour and a half later, she was gone.




No more gasping for air, no more wheezing, just lifeless.




Still in a state of shock, I grabbed our favorite blanket and laid it on top of her. I could not believe my baby was gone. All that praying and crying, and yet, she still didn’t make it.




I told my Aunt, I told London, and I called my friend Cookie.




She could tell something was wrong, probably by the shakiness of my voice, and when I told her the news she was shocked. I hadn’t been keeping her updated on the events of the last 24 hours so she was definitely surprised to hear all of this, and instantly went into planner mode.




She warned me by saying this would be hard, then instructed me to move Lucy’s body off the carpet. Saying how if I didn’t, fluids may run out her mouth and damage it. 




I gagged.




I didn’t know that was a thing at all. And knew I couldn’t do it.




She then instructed me to hurry and position her body, saying that I needed to fold her arms and legs before they got too stiff to move.




Again, I couldn’t believe this was my reality. My baby was just fine, and now this? Smh. Also, if you can’t tell, Cookie’s done this before.




I’m crying, telling her I can’t do this, but I’ll try.




I go over to Lucy’s lifeless body, touch her leg….




And she’s cold. 




And hard.




She went from my warm, snuggly baby, to cold and hard as a rock in under 2 hours. I couldn’t believe it. I wanted to throw up. The tears kept falling. And my friend Cookie said she was on her way.




When she arrived my Aunt called and prayed for me, all while Cookie assembled Lucy’s body and gathered her toys and food. 




To this day I am still so thankful for my support system. Between London, My Aunt, and Cookie, I did not feel alone.




We get to the urgent care, the same one who saw her night one, and they let us get a few last minutes with her in the exam room. 




I cried my eyes out and placed my head on my baby’s. 




I couldn’t believe she was gone. My stinky, my baby, my cat. 




I haven’t shed any tears while typing this, but that sentence just hit me. And now, here I am, crying my eyes out. Trying to tell myself it’s fine, and Lucy is always here in spirit, but yall just don’t understand.




This was not just a cat to me. This was my baby. It was always just me and her. 




I already spend a lot of time alone but it was okay because at least my baby was with me. Now, it’s been an adjustment.

Even with my new buddy Prince (my new boyfriend’s dog) I find myself in my head about him too.




He’s so sweet and reminds me a lot of Lucy with how chill he is. But the guilt does still get to me sometimes. 





Did I do something wrong? Am I the reason Lucy passed away? Can I even be trusted taking care of somebody else’s pet? 




Will Lucy be mad at me for moving on to another animal? Is she looking down from heaven thinking I’m a traitor? 




All of this, and some, keeps me feeling heavy. And I wrote this in hopes of letting that guilt go. 




My baby Lucy was not a mean girl, so I can’t see her being mad at me for enjoying Prince. If anything, she’d be happy Mommy got a good man and a new pet. She knows how Mommy can get when she’s down and depressed, so a dog is even better because I’d have to take him outside to poop – ensuring I get fresh air…




This grieving process has been tough though, not gonna lie. The first two months I was still finding her fingernails, still seeing cat hair, refusing to go in her bathroom. It was a lot.




But writing this has been helpful. I was able to reminisce on the good times with her, reflect on how much I needed that baby, and everything in between.




When talking about this with my therapist a few months ago, she called out that I kept saying, “this is unbelievable. I can’t believe this.”




And she mentioned how the more I say that, the harder it’s going to be to accept that Lucy is really gone.



And she was right, because I am a firm believer in there being power in the tongue, and you can speak things into reality. So the more I say “I can’t believe Lucy is gone” the harder it’s going to be to accept it.




So in an effort to drop this guilt, to truly grieve, I’ll take a stab at saying the following:




“One thing for sure, Lucy loved her Mommy. And she would want her Mommy to be happy, even if that means with Prince. Lucy was here to help Mommy through a number of hard times, and she was around for good times like moving to Georgia too. Lucy knows Mommy will never forget her, just like Lucy will never forget Mommy. She’s gone in the flesh but not in the spirit, and she will be will me always…”




Til next time, peace.

@Jalyssa_DoubleU