In Memory of Measha: Quiet Blessing
A year ago, on May 10, 2023, Joyce and I brought our sweet kitty Measha to the animal clinic for euthanasia. Four months earlier she had been diagnosed with kidney disease. In March 2023 we began to administer subcutaneous fluids to raise her electrolytes and cleanse her kidneys. But Measha did not recover. Week by week she ate less and less, becoming just a shell of her beautiful self. Eventually she had trouble walking straight and mounting the bed where she usually slept. Even though there’s never a right time to say goodbye to those we love, just a less wrong one, it was time to let her go.
Silky Shadow
Measha in April 2018
Measha was Joyce’s silky shadow. She lived on the third floor of our Tudor-style house in Grand Rapids where Joyce has her office and art studio. At night, she always slept near Joyce and often on her, kneading her stomach as if Joyce were the mama cat. I think of Measha as a silent partner to Joyce’s creative ventures, one whose spirit lives on in Joyce’s sculptures, poetry projects, and music.
A few weeks before Measha died, when the weather temporarily turned warmer, she started coming downstairs to curl up in the sunlight in our living room on the first floor. So Joyce moved her litter box to the second floor, where it was easier for Measha to walk down to the first floor but stay close to Joyce at night. This also let our dog Ruby, whom we had adopted in January 2020, finally accept Measha’s presence in the house and no longer regard her as foreign prey.
Grace Notes
Measha was born two days before Joyce’s birthday in April 2008. We lived in Toronto at the time. Measha’s mother, Pooky, was a semi-feral cat who roamed the neighborhood. Pooky gave birth to four kittens on the front porch of a house directly behind ours. When road construction on that block made unsettling noises, Pooky carried her kittens one by one to a safer spot. We still remember her walking atop our back fence, tiny newborns dangling from her mouth, to hide them in a cluttered space between the neighbor’s garage and ours.
Joyce and Measha in August 2008
That’s where Pooky and her kittens lived for several weeks, until Joyce and some neighbors arranged to have them rescued, and we adopted one. Because of her lovely black and white fur—like a tuxedo, we said—we wanted to name our kitten after a woman conductor. But none of the available names seemed right. So we named her after a gifted singer instead, the Canadian soprano Measha Brueggergosman.
This was a fraught time in Joyce’s life. Esther Hart, our goddaughter and Joyce’s close friend, had died of colon cancer a year earlier. Joyce continued to give daily care to Esther’s four-year-old daughter Sophie, all the while coming to terms with Esther’s three-year illness and untimely death. Measha added little grace notes to Joyce’s heartsongs of sorrow.
Constant Companion
Measha and Hannah “sharing” the dog blanket in October 2009
Measha also befriended our dog Hannah, who was less than a year old when Measha joined our household. As I wrote in my memoir To Sing Once More, after Hannah had figured out “that her new housemate was neither a squeaky toy nor a stray squirrel, they became buddies. They played vigorously and often slept together on Hannah’s blanket” (p. 25). Gradually, however, Measha took over their shared spaces. She knew how to stare a dog down. If that didn’t work, ferocious fur-fluffing and a nasty snarl did the trick.
Divided attention, July 29, 2011
Unlike our previous cats, Measha did not venture outside, even though she started her life outdoors. That kept her fur glistening and her demeanor calm. Having inherited her semi-feral mother’s caution, she rarely came downstairs to greet visitors. When guests arrived, she would run away and hide. Only in her last years did she let a few “foreigners” get close.
Measha on April 4, 2018
Joyce and I have had several cats during our married life together—Ebony, Fresca, and Baldwin—but none was as sweet and beautiful as Measha. A stray kitten, she became a constant companion. Rescued by her mother from urban turmoil and by caring neighbors from the rough outdoors, she became our household’s calm and healing presence. We were so sad to see her waste away last year. But today we remember with gratitude how Measha quietly blessed our lives.
Note: If you wish to receive notices of my blog posts in the future, please email me using the contact link on this website.
