My cat died on Wednesday last. My g/f was over with her twins and I went 'round the corner to close the door to the guest bathroom---that's where the litter box, cat food, and cat water (she needed distilled water) were kept. We keep it closed for now as the twins, at 13 months, are into everything. I'd just forgotten until one of them took off down the hall, which jolted my memory and sent me zipping ahead to close the door.
I found my cat dead, sprawled across the floor between her food dish and the cat box. I kept the twin behind me, but my cat was blocking the door. I called out for my girlfriend, who knelt beside me when she saw. Once my g/f had the twins interested in something else, I placed a hand on my cat to see if she was breathing, or warm, or whatever. She was still warmish, so I slid my hand underneath her, and that settled it---she was the same temp as the floor.
It was only luck that my g/f was there at all. She usually brings the twins over on Thursday afternoons. This time we'd moved our usual Thursday to Wednesday, because we had a date set for Thursday.
She was only ten years old. She was a mostly-black Calico (tortise shell, excuse the spelling). She'd had bladder problems---she had something like 18 stones removed last year---and just gotten over a bladder infection, but for the last month she'd been fine.
Coming around that corner was awful. I have had to put down cats, which completely sucks, except for the part where you at least know you are doing it for the cat, and you get to have a time to make goodbyes. This was much worse. It brought back memories of my g/f of long ago, who this year has been dead twice as long as she was alive.
For the next three days I kept seeing her out of the corner of my eye, or feel her jump up on the bed to lay on my legs, and I would automatically head for the bathroom to check her box, food, and water, before bed and when I get up. Not the crushing loss of a person one loves, but pretty awful just the same.
Even when my g/f and I were making love, it was poignant, as we didn't have to scoot my cat out of the room before we closed the door. It was a fantastic afternoon, complete with rhythmic thudding of the bed against the wall, which for some reason, seemed to please my g/f very much (though she did have to shift her grip to keep from skinning her knuckles). For some reason, death seems to make sexual contact more urgent.
So my partner, g/f, and daughter pretty much ordered me to go out and get another cat (my g/f insisted on two). So I got a Tortise Shell and a grey striped kitty---the grey is a male and he's an affection sponge, so my partner and daughter think he hung the moon. The Calico is a moody princess, which is a good match for me.
What surprised me was how much having new cats has let me miss my lost cat without being disconsolate.
So I've been out of the loop a bit, sorry.
I found my cat dead, sprawled across the floor between her food dish and the cat box. I kept the twin behind me, but my cat was blocking the door. I called out for my girlfriend, who knelt beside me when she saw. Once my g/f had the twins interested in something else, I placed a hand on my cat to see if she was breathing, or warm, or whatever. She was still warmish, so I slid my hand underneath her, and that settled it---she was the same temp as the floor.
It was only luck that my g/f was there at all. She usually brings the twins over on Thursday afternoons. This time we'd moved our usual Thursday to Wednesday, because we had a date set for Thursday.
She was only ten years old. She was a mostly-black Calico (tortise shell, excuse the spelling). She'd had bladder problems---she had something like 18 stones removed last year---and just gotten over a bladder infection, but for the last month she'd been fine.
Coming around that corner was awful. I have had to put down cats, which completely sucks, except for the part where you at least know you are doing it for the cat, and you get to have a time to make goodbyes. This was much worse. It brought back memories of my g/f of long ago, who this year has been dead twice as long as she was alive.
For the next three days I kept seeing her out of the corner of my eye, or feel her jump up on the bed to lay on my legs, and I would automatically head for the bathroom to check her box, food, and water, before bed and when I get up. Not the crushing loss of a person one loves, but pretty awful just the same.
Even when my g/f and I were making love, it was poignant, as we didn't have to scoot my cat out of the room before we closed the door. It was a fantastic afternoon, complete with rhythmic thudding of the bed against the wall, which for some reason, seemed to please my g/f very much (though she did have to shift her grip to keep from skinning her knuckles). For some reason, death seems to make sexual contact more urgent.
So my partner, g/f, and daughter pretty much ordered me to go out and get another cat (my g/f insisted on two). So I got a Tortise Shell and a grey striped kitty---the grey is a male and he's an affection sponge, so my partner and daughter think he hung the moon. The Calico is a moody princess, which is a good match for me.
What surprised me was how much having new cats has let me miss my lost cat without being disconsolate.
So I've been out of the loop a bit, sorry.
VIEW 4 of 4 COMMENTS
liathach:
Old bean! Am I that obvious? I've never been nationally stereotyped before!!! 
kittenbot:
A web cam and a glass dildo works for now! 
