Vikki: “Betty Boo was rescued from the streets of Deira when she was just a few months old. She was part of a large TNR (Trap, Neuter, Return) scheme and was supposed to be just that. However, Betty had the most horrendous injury to her neck and couldn’t be released.
She went from one foster home to another until she arrived at ours one November evening in 2013. She was not the easiest cat to deal with. She grumbled at us constantly and you couldn’t pick her up without fear of being ripped to shreds! It took her a while to realise that humans were safe. Eventually, she would let us stroke her and she would cuddle up to us and would purr very loudly.
I knew how hard it was for cats to get adopted, but I still tried. She went to adoption days, but got so cross we couldn’t even put her back in her carrier at the end of the day! So we gave up taking her. I despaired that she would ever get adopted, especially in the UAE. She needed a very special, very patient family who would love her huge personality. I dreamed about her having a home in England with a garden to run around in.
Betty loved her food more than anything. She screamed for the tuna ice cubes I had made for the cats that lived in the compound. She fought off the others for wet food. But most of all, Betty loved Dreamies. It didn’t matter where we hid them, she found every single packet and ripped it open. And it is because of this obsession that Betty Boo found her forever home.
When I lived in the UK, I used to do Parkrun every week. There was a podcast led by Danny Norman and because I missed Parkrun, I used to listen to it every week. One week, Danny was talking about how his cats loved Dreamies, so I posted a picture of Betty savaging a packet of them on their Facebook page and said she was looking for a home and could fly to anywhere in the world.
Betty had her own Facebook page and Danny and his girlfriend, Libby, followed it and regularly commented on her pictures and updates. Then one day in September 2015, after another plea from me for Betty to have her own home, Libby posted that she thought they should adopt Betty. I remember getting goose bumps at the thought that she might finally get her own home.
It all happened very quickly after that and I’ll let Danny take over the story of how Betty Boo had just been waiting for the right family to come along….”
Danny: “On the 30th of October 2015, I posted a video on Facebook that shows Betty Boo’s first few moments in her new home. There had been a fear that upon arrival, she would not come out of her carrier for a while but this was not the case. I will never forget those wide eyes that genuinely looked like she was excited; it was like she knew she was home.
She looked all around with great curiosity, then took to the windows in our living room, patrolling up and down their ledges, looking out on the gardens with a ‘Betty grumble’ at the cats she saw down below. Two of which were ours, her new brothers, Ollie and Badger. I estimate it took no more than 45 minutes before she was on my lap looking for greater attention. I had been told she didn’t do laps but the one thing Betty always did was defy convention and expectation. I felt very honoured. I felt she knew immediately I was hers and she was mine. She never liked being picked up however, by me, or anyone. That was her one constant.
The prospect of Betty had raised itself at the right time. It felt right to bring her to the UK and give her a forever home. It wouldn’t be cheap; but something just burned in me to get Betty over. Vikki created a crowdfunding page to fund her transport over and paperwork, and I was blown away by the donations collected. I will always feel indebted to the donators; I don’t think I could ever repay their kindness. Betty was flown over on an Emirates Airbus A380. She flew in a better plane than I ever have been in. I love this fact.
We had her for 8 months. 8 amazing months of fun-filled Betty Boo-ness. Far, far too short a time. It was never and never will have been enough.
She made a huge impression; this is where I fear I will forget a few of the numerous little instances that made her our Betty. She was stubborn, fearless, curious, hilarious, demanding and loving. She was vocal. Very vocal and she had such a cute, raspy meow that defied her femininity. What I wouldn’t give to have her berate me one more time, ordering me to give her a meatstick piece or Dreamie.
She got to climb trees, play in grass and have a garden of her own. She scaled those trees like Spiderman up a skyscraper at break-neck speed. I’ve never known a cat to show total lack of regard for her own safety, but she never hurt herself and she never got stuck.
Every single plant that Libby owned became part of Betty’s diet or scratching routine. Libby adored her and Betty adored Libby. I do believe being the ladies of the flat that they bonded in a special way.
Betty made a great friend in Badger, eventually. He was her partner in crime, assisting Betty in waking me up at 3.30am for wet food. It was always 3.30am. Betty was impeccable in her timing. Ollie, ironically, tolerated her (he’s a very independent and alpha male cat) most in the last few weeks we had her. I even picked her up and took her over to Ollie a few days before she died. He washed her head lovingly. Maybe he knew.
She started to become noticeably different from Thursday 30th June. Nothing major at first, just a bit more sleeping, less vocal than usual. Fearing for her health, we took her to the vets and I wish now I’d taken her sooner. I’ll never know if she could have been saved had I acted faster.
The emergency vets were called in first thing Sunday morning and I rushed her over at 8am. Unfortunately, things went downhill quickly. We received a call on Sunday afternoon that the diagnosis was FeLV. Ultimately, her anaemia is what killed her. We took her over to our own vets on Monday morning. The vet, Sofia, promised to try anything and everything to make her better. She even offered her own cats for a blood transfusion as things became more critical. We’ll never forget this.
We received a call that evening which wasn’t good news. Betty was slipping away and didn’t have long. Libby and I shot out of the door and drove there as fast as we could. Betty was on a table with air and gas being administered. She was suffering and pale. We were losing her and there was nothing we could do.
I watched as Betty slipped from us. She fought hard every inch of the way. She was a natural born fighter. Libby held her head, I held her paw, and we stroked her and kissed her cheek. Her heart rate slowed. The finality of Betty’s life struck all too soon. She was three and a half years old, around 30 in human years. Tragically early. She had so much more to give.
We were wrecked. What we wouldn’t give to have her back being her rambunctious self. There have been times where I haven’t been able to breathe properly thinking about her death and all the little things she did that will never happen again. The flat has never seemed so empty.
As you can imagine, it’s hit us hard emotionally. Betty Boo was significant to me in more ways than just a simple pet. She gave me a focus and purpose at times when I needed it most. She came into our lives via an extraordinary circumstance. When you have to look after an innocent dependent, you have a purpose to fulfil that duty. It keeps you strong at times when it would be easier just to pack it all in. I am not a man of faith or spirituality, but I hope to meet her again someday. It’s too early to say goodbye. I want to know she knew we were there for her in her last moments, loving her. But I am grateful for having her in my life. It’s hit Libby hardest, I never realised how deeply ingrained her love for Betty was until now. Betty was mine, I adored her so much, she loved to sleep and rest on my lap on occasion, on her terms, but the heartstrings between Libby and Betty were tightest. I didn’t think anyone could adore her more than I, I was wrong. Pets are family and she was a much loved member.
Sleep now Betty Boo. I love you.”
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