Something about Harry: Heartbreak, Healing, Hope.

Karen Coney Coplin

A few years ago, I received a call from a friend and neighbor who had, in turn, received a notice from the city. She was informed that a neighboring vacant home would be demolished soon.

She was concerned because the owner sold the house and moved away; for unknown (and surely no good) reasons, he left behind three house cats.

When my friend called me asking for suggestions to help the cats, my daughters and I decided to investigate. Sadly, by that point one of the cats had been hit by a car and was killed.

The house truly looked like it had been abandoned, with the front door open and hanging from the hinges. The cats were sitting on the front porch with boxes for shelter. They were friendly, but not in good shape. There was a large bag of cat food left with a note asking any passers-by to “please look after these cats” as if the were Paddington the Bear.

My daughter Tabitha posted on Facebook about these cats, and although there were many expressions of concern, no one was in an immediate position to help remove them from the property. With the demolition date looming, we decided to catch the cats – which was amazingly easy, fortunately. Then, we took them to the vet for an examination. Neither cat had a microchip, and the grey and white cat was in far worse shape than the orange cat, though neither were young and fit.

Originally, we had planned to call the elderly grey and white cat Pierre after my late Uncle Pete, who loved cats. But Pierre was actually a girl, so we renamed her Irene, for my late aunt. The orange cat was dubbed Harry because his coloring was not unlike the hair of the younger British Prince.

Both cats had many health challenges at a time while I did as well, and I’m ever thankful to Gulfshore Animal Hospital for caring for them until they finally came home – where my own elderly orange cat, Crush, welcomed them with tenderness and care.

They were shy and kept together contentedly until Irene’s health took a turn for the worse.

There’s nothing quite like having to contact an emergency veterinarian over the weekend: hoping for the best yet fearing the worst. Because Irene was in the advanced stages of kidney disease when we rescued her, the vet’s merciful suggestion was a reminder that her time had come.

Irene had been in my house for less than 90 days,yet all of our family had a lump in our throats for some time after we said goodbye. Her time with us was short, but our love loomed large.

Because Harry was no longer with his constant companion, we were a little worried about him, but he soon began exploring and found hidden and cozy spots to nap, which was his favorite thing (apart from breakfast, or second breakfast when offered).

He had an endearing habit of tapping your hand with his paw for additional pets, and although he was constantly grooming himself, he often resembled the wild-haired character Bill the Cat from the Bloom County cartoon.

At some point his photo and backstory was shared on Reddit, with his sweet, wizened face winning the hearts of complete strangers just as he captured ours.

Because animals can’t speak our language and rescue animals have unknown backgrounds, his age was estimated to be somewhere around 17 or 18 when he came to live with us. Over the course of his time with us, he gradually settled into an increasingly slower pace as fitting his most senior sunset years.

One night last April, he came into my bedroom and settled in one of the beds on the floor (he no longer could jump or climb onto beds so he had pet beds all over the house). This was a departure from his normal pattern of sleeping in the living room – which is much closer to the kitchen and his food bowls.

I awoke that morning around 4 a.m. and was happy to see that he was quietly resting. He even started making little purring sounds when I scratched his head. Somewhere from that time and when I woke up again, just a few hours later, he was gone.

As anyone who loves pets knows, one of the hardest challenges is determining when you might have to say goodbye and you’re torn between the love of a special creature and the loss which looms ahead. Euthanasia is never an easy decision.

Of all the pets in my lifetime, Harry was only the second one that was able to ease into a gentle sleep and pass in the night. He was in his own bed, in his own warm home, with a full belly, and he left in his own time frame: a peaceful ending.

Harry filled our lives with love and many lessons. Among those are reminders of the absolute power of kindness and compassion, especially when looking out for the most vulnerable around us.

Is there a Harry in your life today? If so, know that he -and you- are blessed.

With the hope that you never need such a list, please email Karen at NaplesKCC@gmail.com to receive contact information for emergency animal hospitals in the area. And with a nod to Harry, our family wishes to thank “For the Love of Cats,” a local rescue organization which helped us place three stray kittens in a foster home while mama cat is vetted and spayed -a much better life ahead for all.

Please consider giving them a follow on Facebook or Instagram and supporting them otherwise if you can.

Please contact Karen at NaplesKCC@gmail.com with suggestions for future article coverage, which is often centered on charitable organizations in Naples and the programs/services these groups offer.

Additionally, for more vignettes about life in Naples, give her a follow on Instagram @Naplesbythenumbers