A Tail of Two Kitties:
Yes, I meant "tail," not tale. (I'm trying to be cute, bear with me.)
Today's post was supposed to be about one cat only but Miranda, never one to be outdone by anybody, had to create some drama this week.
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We took her to the vet nonetheless and got some unexpected news: heart murmur, ear infection, dehydration. On the bright side (and something the vet refused to comment on), she'd gained weight from her last vet visit. This vet (who I'm currently feeling quite iffy about returning her to for many reasons I'm not mentioning here)
was loathe to do anything about the missing tooth which apparently broke off and didn't actually fall out. I figured there'd need to be an extraction and she didn't want to put kitty under any anesthetic, not even for a tooth cleaning.
We left the vet's office $160 poorer and feeling like our cat was about to drop dead before we made it back home. Yes, she's old (14, our best guess?) but she's not deteriorating the way the vet was having us believe.
Currently, Miranda (less half of one fang) is sitting on my lap and feeling quite smug for taking over this Caturday post. She's had some aggravations the last few days (cleaner and drops for her ears, antibiotics for her tooth and a bath after she messed herself in the carrier on the way back from the office visit) but she's also had a lot of pampering and treats including a new water fountain and Catsip. *cough*AndCheese*cough*
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I was wary about taking two cats in when we were only interested in one but we fell in love with these two and they became His-And-Hers companions.
Phobos was a very affectionate (if not incredibly shy) cat whose life ended a year ago today. We were preparing to move and he'd been soiling the carpet for quite some time for no physical health reason we could discover. As the move approached, his health deteriorated suddenly and rapidly and I found myself having to make the decision -- unmatched in difficulty -- to make an appointment for euthanasia. Knowing it was the humane thing to do didn't make it easier. The earliest they could fit us in didn't seem quite soon enough and I was certain he wouldn't make it to his appointment. When we took him in and they weighed him, the towel DH carried him in weighed more than he did (and he'd always been larger than Miranda by almost twice her weight).
I had DS with us (at that point not even 17 months old) and kept him entertained by looking at the kitties up for adoption while DH kept Phobos company through his last breath.
I felt cold and callous, everything I chose to do up until that point very methodical and sterile.
It was on the way home that I completely broke down and sobbed the whole half hour drive. And would have random break-downs for several weeks later. (And Phobos wasn't really ever "my" cat.)
In the days immediately following, DH did the best thing he could do to help his grieving process. He put together a touching video memorial for his cat. It would honor us if you would watch the video he made in Phobos's memory; it's only a little over 6 minutes long.
And now you know our secret identities. . . (I think it was worth it.) :)
I hope everyone has a nice (drama-free) weekend. I look forward to sharing fun stuff with you next week!