Baylie's Story
(Content: A long, happy life, and a peaceful passing.)
Baylie was my second-ever cat. She was born in 2000 and came to us in 2003. This is her story.
Spring, 2003: Our previous cat, Darlyn, who had been in the family since I was eight years old, had just passed. I was now 22, a senior in college, and devastated to lose my little guy. I told my mom I wanted to adopt a cat from the Humane Society. She agreed, saying the next weekend that I came home from college, we could go to the Humane Society and take a look.
For the next week or two, I was all over the Oregon Humane Society's website, looking at the photos and descriptions of every cat on the site. I even made a spreadsheet with info. about all the cats. By the time the weekend rolled around, I'd narrowed my picks to about a dozen furballs.
At the Humane Society, we began looking at the cats on my list. Some had already been adopted; some were temporarily at another facility. One, I remember, was so feisty, the volunteer couldn't even get him to come out of his cage without bloodshed.
I met some of the others on my list, and they were fine, but didn't feel anything particularly special towards them.
I had pretty much exhausted my list when my mom said she wanted to meet a cat she'd seen in one of the little cat rooms. This cat, she said, had stood on her hind legs and pressed her paws against the glass to look at my mom. I agreed to meet the cat.
Within minutes of us all being in the little cat meet-and-greet room together, this little tuxedo fluffball named Betty Davis climbed into my lap, laid down, and began to purr.
That's when I knew. "She's the one," I said. And we adopted her.
In the car on the way home, our new cat meowed mournfully from her carrying box. Along the way, we decided we couldn't call her Betty Davis (we already had a Betty or two in the family), so I suggested "Baylie." (I had been taking a class on England's Castles; there was a lot of talk about motte-and-bailey castles. I think the name was floating around in my head.)
When we got home, we let Baylie out of her box. She looked all around, jumped out, then went to find a hiding place. For the first night, she mostly remained under the family room couch, occasionally coming out to say hello before running back underneath. Her shyness, however, only lasted that one night. After that, she was perfectly amiable and always ready for affection.
We quickly realized she had a loud meow and wasn't afraid to use it. We also found that she was terrified of the doorbell. Whenever it would ring, she would zoom upstairs and hide. This quirk only seemed to go away in later years, when she began to lose her hearing.
Like most cats, Baylie was keen to the sound of the can opener, interested in whatever her humans were eating.
We adopted her sister Didi a month and a half later, and although the two cats didn't get along at first, after a few months they were best friends.
Usually.
Me with the girls circa 2005.
Baylie loved her scratching post/cat tree, especially the top portion. She'd often lie on her back and kick. Or play with her tail.
She also loved boxes. No matter what size box, if you set it within her reach, she'd try to climb in it.
She loved burrowing under blankets. Sometimes you'd just see a lump in your bed... it was her!
In her younger years, she enjoyed chasing the laser pointer dot around the house. If it appeared high on the wall, she'd leap as high as she could, against the wall, to claim it.
Baylie's front paws had been declawed before we got her. Whatever your take on declawing, I can say that, for the most part, it was really nice having a declawed cat. It meant she had to stay indoors, but we would have kept her inside anyway.
With a lack of front claws, this girl learned another way to defend herself when Didi wanted to play. I called it the backpaw beatdown. It involved Baylie putting her weight on her front paws and pivoting her hips so that her back legs came down on top of Didi. Tussling would commence. Since Didi was smaller, the two were pretty evenly matched.
After she entered her teenage years, Baylie didn't perform this move anymore, but in her prime, it was hilarious.
One of Baylie's vices was jumping onto our kitchen counters. We tried all kinds of things to curb this behavior -- LEGO baseplates on the surfaces (she walked right over them), a motion sensor alarm (it didn't bother her; we'd hear it, run in, chase her off, only to hear the alarm go off again five minutes later.) We learned to keep all our food in the cupboards.
This girl loved muffins. Something about the smell would drive her wild. She could smell them through plastic and would attack muffin packages to get into them. She'd even go after empty muffin wrappers. We had to be careful to bury the wrappers deep in the wastebaskets.
In her later years, she would often stare at me as I ate, silently begging for food, inching ever closer. She began completely ignoring the word no. Sometimes I had eat in a room with a closed door just to avoid her bulbous, pleading eyes.
Some of Baylie's nicknames over time included: Baylie May, Mrs. Blue, and Bay-Bay.
We brought
Riker into the family in 2011, and Didi passed away in 2014. Riker and Baylie didn't get along at first. Baylie often hissed at her brother when he came near. But as time went on, she seemed to forget that they'd ever been enemies. Multiple times in her last year, I caught them snuggling.
^This is Riker waiting to see if Baylie will leave him anything in her dish. They ate different foods, but Baylie never quite finished every morsel of hers, so Riker got to eat her minimal leftovers. He was usually patient.
Baylie was diagnosed with thyroid issues when she was about eleven or twelve. She had lost a lot of weight. At age 3, she'd weighed 16 pounds. By 2018, she was down to 4.5 pounds. We gave her twice-daily doses of thyroid medicine, but the meds didn't fatten her up by any means.
In July of 2018, Baylie began having accidents, so we bought her some kitty diapers. She looked pretty adorable wearing them, and they worked really well.
Baylie and Riker could often be found snuggling together at this time. It was usually Baylie who'd initiate it. Riker was very patient with her. The two of them had come a long way.
One day in the fall of 2018, Baylie stopped eating, and I knew her time was near. I called into work, and then I held her in my arms all day, talking to her and keeping her cozy.
Dear Baylie May. She had a long life: 2000-2018. She was part of our family for 15 1/2 years, and I'm forever grateful for the time we had.
^Baylie in 2010, checking out our baby chicks.
