Current mood:

sad

Death of a Feline Friend.
WARNING: Sad news about a pet, if this disturbs you, flip to the next entry on your friends page.

To begin with, I haven’t slept very much this weekend at all. Saturday night I was basically awake until dawn and then back up at 11am, and last night it was 3am to 7:30am. I feel as if there are literally a set of matched luggage under my eyes and ‘oh look, there is.’ There is unfortunately reason for my madness, which I’ll unfold after this thing here >>>>

The most immediate cause of my insomnia is that one of our cats died. This wasn’t a surprise, she had been ill for sometime and we kept hoping for a recovery. In the grand tradition of stubbornness (that she perfected to art form no human could ever achieve) she waited until the weekend – when no vet would or could see her – before taking a turn for the worst and by late Sunday evening she was gone. She loved her people, and she had both of us with her at the end. I will miss her terribly. I can’t say that I’m surprised or shocked at how saddened I am. There is the very butch (man) part of me that wants to denounce it, but after fifteen years, she was a member of our family, and one of our three (four-legged) children.

After the sudden death of our first cat ‘Hamlet’ from FUS, we had gotten Alex but neglected to tell my partners family that we had gotten a new kitten. A few days later, we received a phone call telling us that Tarc’s sister had found us a small black kitten, and to come and get her from his parents house. I had to be out of state for work, and Tarc made the trip alone. Who he met when he arrived was a small black ball of fur, more raw determination than cat, with bright gold eyes. The runt of her litter, she fit easily into one hand, but never hesitated to show any other kitten who was boss. She knew no fear, and adapted immediately to new surroundings.

We called her Shadow, (to re-phrase that her name was Shadow - we just figured it out) and her behavior throughout life matched her name. She was never much for being held or picked up, but she was happiest remaining just a few feet away with in reach for a quick pet. She liked to sleep in dark corners in the day time, and moved silently and gently always. Shadow never weighed more than 5 or 6 lbs, she was the smallest feline I’ve ever known, and also the most stubborn. If she wanted something, there was no deterring her; this was possibly in part because she wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, and when she got something into her head it was the only thought it could hold and therefore the only thing in the world to pursue.

She spent most of her time staring at blank walls, missing the top of cabinets she wasn’t meant to be on, and sleeping on the dinning room table (see places she wasn’t supposed to go.) She also had a penchant for sleeping in high places that, quite regularly, she would roll off of in her sleep. Whenever this happened, she simply shook it off, and trotted away as if she’d meant to do that. I remember most vividly, her first trip to the vets office in which, while waiting in the waiting area, she saw two huge Newfoundlander’s. (Big fluffy dogs with black fur) She walked right up to them as if they might become her new best friends. Thank god at the time she was hardly more than a toothpick to these giant sized dogs, or at least that seemed to be the look they gave her, but that didn’t stop her from being obsessed with getting to them, or trying to flop down beside them like they were her match. No Black object regardless of size was ever safe from being slept on, she liked to blend in and pretend to disappear. There was something completely refreshing about her ‘every days a new day’ approach to life. Her gentle and accepting behavior to change, and the simplicity of her needs.

Unfortunately, she had a genetic predisposition towards abscesses in her scent glands. Both of her anal glands required surgery during her life, and it was the scent glands in her muzzle that became infected this time. I feel slightly comforted by the fact that she was at home when she died, with us, and frankly given her stubborn streak I don’t think she would have had it any other way.

I will miss her annoying the hell out of me most, as strange as that may sound. As I’ve mentioned before when she got an idea into her head there was little to nothing that would deter her from that objective. She was the first to let us know when she could see the bottom of the food bowl, or when she wanted water. She had an obsession for milk, which, she could not digest well and though some years have passed since she got ‘that white stuff’ out of the fridge, it didn’t stop her from dancing between my feet every morning, or asking for it by name. “Miiiiiiiiilk.” I think it was her only word.

So all in all, though I’ve very sad, and I’ll miss her terribly. She had a good life, and a long one - outliving the Vet’s prognosis by about seven years from her first anal gland infection. She was very well loved and cared for, and for a barn cat with out any fear at all I’d say that’s pretty darned good.

I was going to report on my health and the back problems I’ve been having, but it seems fairly inconsequential now. I pulled a hamstring approximately two weeks ago, which I’m told by the Doctor was setting my pelvic bone (and my spine) out of whack, and putting pressure on my hip joint. I’ve had my hip reset twice and a shot of cortisone, I’ve also been on some pretty heavy duty pain medicine and muscle relaxants. Thus far I am improving, SLOWLY, but then I’m thirty-seven and can’t expect to heal like I did ten years ago. Also after the abuse I put my body through, dancing and marching in Drum Corps when I was young, I have to expect that I’ve done the kind of damage that catches up to you. Either way, I’m on the mend.