Migraine-Impeded Reminiscences
Migraines suck--in case you didn't know. I was going to issue a Scroogerella-style screed today about how everyone should observe Buy Nothing Day, but I'm just not up to it. I'm too drained. Plus, it's 1:oo PM PST, so it's kind of too late--especially for all those people who signed up for Target's early wake-up call.
Anyway.
Our cat the Boss (pictured here on B's chair that I hate so very much) is on my mind today. We had to have him put to sleep on the day after Thanksgiving last year.
The poor kitty had an inoperable tumor in his mouth and could barely eat. B went to great stinky lengths involving the blender and cans of people tuna to try to prepare something that the Boss would be able to lap up. Sadly, B's efforts weren't very successful. The Boss just moped around the house drooling (the tumor made it hard for him to close his mouth all the way). It was unbearable. So I made an appointment to have the vet come to our house to euthanize him. It was the right thing to do. He was a couple of months shy of his 18th birthday so he'd had a good long life.
I was a wreck afterward, even though the Boss had never been a very affectionate cat. He never sat on my lap or seemed pleased to see me unless I had a can of catfood in my hand. For the first five or six years I had him, he bit me frequently, often drawing blood. (Why did I put up with this?) He did mellow out eventually but never really warmed up to people.
Still, I'd had him for most of his life and was attached to him. It was just awful to not see him around the house. A few days after we had him put down, we went to the Humane Society and adopted Rusty. I'll admit that I was still grieving for the Boss, and for that reason I had no interest in getting anything but another hefty male cat. B kept pointing out all these friendly, dainty female cats, but I kept looking for one that was more Bosslike in appearance. Draw what conclusions you will about the state of my mental health at that time.
For the first few weeks we had Rusty, he seemed so much like the Boss it was spooky. We joked that he'd found the Boss's soul lurking behind the furnace and had gobbled it up. (Rusty will eat practically anything, including popcorn and potato chips, so why not a soul?) But as time wore on, we realized that Rusty was indeed very different (he must have found the Boss's soul unpalatable and barfed it up at some point).
Rusty is a sort of Jekyll and Hyde cat. He loves to jump on my lap, curl up, and go into hyperpurr mode, but he also takes great pride and pleasure in sneaking up on me and sinking his teeth into my leg (unlike the Boss, though, he seldom breaks the skin). I expect I'll only have to put up with the latter behavior for another five years or so. I can live with that.
Anyway.
Our cat the Boss (pictured here on B's chair that I hate so very much) is on my mind today. We had to have him put to sleep on the day after Thanksgiving last year.
The poor kitty had an inoperable tumor in his mouth and could barely eat. B went to great stinky lengths involving the blender and cans of people tuna to try to prepare something that the Boss would be able to lap up. Sadly, B's efforts weren't very successful. The Boss just moped around the house drooling (the tumor made it hard for him to close his mouth all the way). It was unbearable. So I made an appointment to have the vet come to our house to euthanize him. It was the right thing to do. He was a couple of months shy of his 18th birthday so he'd had a good long life.
I was a wreck afterward, even though the Boss had never been a very affectionate cat. He never sat on my lap or seemed pleased to see me unless I had a can of catfood in my hand. For the first five or six years I had him, he bit me frequently, often drawing blood. (Why did I put up with this?) He did mellow out eventually but never really warmed up to people.
Still, I'd had him for most of his life and was attached to him. It was just awful to not see him around the house. A few days after we had him put down, we went to the Humane Society and adopted Rusty. I'll admit that I was still grieving for the Boss, and for that reason I had no interest in getting anything but another hefty male cat. B kept pointing out all these friendly, dainty female cats, but I kept looking for one that was more Bosslike in appearance. Draw what conclusions you will about the state of my mental health at that time.
For the first few weeks we had Rusty, he seemed so much like the Boss it was spooky. We joked that he'd found the Boss's soul lurking behind the furnace and had gobbled it up. (Rusty will eat practically anything, including popcorn and potato chips, so why not a soul?) But as time wore on, we realized that Rusty was indeed very different (he must have found the Boss's soul unpalatable and barfed it up at some point).
Rusty is a sort of Jekyll and Hyde cat. He loves to jump on my lap, curl up, and go into hyperpurr mode, but he also takes great pride and pleasure in sneaking up on me and sinking his teeth into my leg (unlike the Boss, though, he seldom breaks the skin). I expect I'll only have to put up with the latter behavior for another five years or so. I can live with that.
posted by Rozanne at 1:01 PM
3 Comments:
I hope your head is feeling better today. What a sad story about the Boss, I don't think I've ever heard of a cat living for 18 years!
Thank you for sharing the stories about your kitties past and present. Ms. Taxi is lying on my lap as I type this. She is one of those dainty, friendly female cats you mentioned, but she is not above a Random Leg Attack if the mood strikes her. She also boxes the dogs on the ears and bites them on the forehead.
Even though I had exactly zero intention of going shopping Friday, I was sorely tempted to get a Target wake-up call from (a recording of) Ice-T. :-)
Why on earth would anyone want to shop at the same time as a zillion other people? I only like stores when nobody else is in them.
Jilly, I know of one cat that is currently 20 (!) and another that lasted until about 21. They get pretty scrawny by then, but they still manage somehow.
Jamie, Cats don't take any guff, do they?
A hypocritical confession. I did observe Buy Nothing day, but then I went to Target yesterday (Saturday) and bought a bunch of stuff. Surprisingly, there was hardly a soul there. I agree, shopping is most pleasant when there are few other shoppers clogging the aisles.
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