So we killed our cats yesterday. We don't "put (insert animal here) to sleep". We call it what it is - we've always been fans of plain language, so there it is. We killed our cats yesterday.
It was a necessity for a variety of reasons having to do with old age, illness, etc.
The odd thing was that the way the day went yesterday, this was pretty much the high point, as the rest of the day deteriorated from there. I don't know whether those two items are related.
This morning, I got up and made coffee, and roamed around the house getting my shit together. It occurred to me that we have had cats literally every day of the last at least 35 years, and today we don't. How strange is that?
We've never allowed cats into our bedrooms nor the bedrooms of our guests (many of whom, of course, are allergic to them), but there's no necessity to keep those doors closed to enforce what the cats viewed as a senseless rule to be challenged at every opportunity. Not now.
But every time I glance down the hallway and see the open door, I get a flash of irritation that someone has let the fucking cats into the room again, and they're probably hiding under the bed and won't come out without being prodded by a broomstick.
Oh, yeah, I remember.
Being cat-less, it seems, is going to be a matter of retraining for us all. But that's easy.
Less easy is that I keep seeing them slinking around, like cats are wont to do, hanging just outside my peripheral vision. I can almost feel the one doing her magic trick where she appears from nowhere and leans against my leg right now as I type this, wanting to be scratched, annoyed because I haven't fed her breakfast yet.
It's gonna be a long day.
In Our Next Episode: Something else to whine about, doubtless.
New cats? I convinced the ex to take the younger cat b/c she needs to go outside and can't here ... thought I'd miss her horribly but don't. Cocoa is around 12 and sweet, but annoying. I'm thinking after this, no mas. All the fur everywhere, just so tired of it. The mrowing. The yarking. Just not worth the cutenesss. I think.
ReplyDeleteHope today's better for you.
"All the fur everywhere, just so tired of it. The mrowing. The yarking. Just not worth the cutenesss. I think."
ReplyDeleteAffirmative - especially the really old ones, where the cuteness is WAY past and is presently buried in foul catboxes, along with all the stuff you said. I've been looking around since they're gone - it's gonna take a few days and a steam cleaner to hose this place out...
I got plenty of outside cats, which is where they belong. They come, they go, they predate (as in "disassemble") the local pests and interact with the large population of wild local predators (for better or worse.)
And they seem to be doing fine without having to claw the guts out of the corner of the couch or puking a large furry mass onto my laptop cord....
And when they disappear for good, which they all do sooner or later, by the time I realize they aren't coming back, I'm already over it.
A good working relationship, I'm thinking, and one I'll not again try to bring "inside".
Hear hear for outdoor cats. Ours brings gifts of mouse and lizard but otherwise minds her own biz, the disgusting remnants of which are thoughtfully left on upper shelves in the garage where they can be ignored for years at a stretch. And when they get old and slow, I find the local coyote tribe provides a much less costly disposal than the vet.
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