The eldest of our clowder died yesterday afternoon after a fight against kidney failure. Kidney failure, sadly, won. Baseball put up a heck of a fight, however. Today, both Maribou and I discovered the current incarnation of the flu. We have had many rainbow conversations with Ralph on the porcelain telephone.
All that to say: This week has sucked so bad that I can’t do the Fringery this week. Which is too bad because ‘Concentrate and Ask Again’ was a solid episode.
My apologies. The spirit is willing but the flesh has had a crappy, crappy week so far.
So sorry for the loss of your cat, and get well soon, guys.
Get well soon! Being sick blows chunks. I recently learned to make soup. I would bring you some but that would be a long drive. Feel better! *hugs*
Sorry about your cat.
Hope you get to feeling better.
Thanks all. It was easier with Baseball than it might otherwise have been… he was about 18 years old and responded to treatment for a couple of weeks allowing us to say goodbye in a healthy way.
He had 5 years with us, more or less. We had 250 really, really good weekends together. Focusing on the last really crappy one is a disservice to everybody involved.
As for being sick, I spent all night fever dreaming about Grumpy Cat buying saints medals at Canadian Tire and giving Anthony and Christopher to his loved ones that, apparently, involved me.
Why “Baseball”, by the way? (I’m half-expecting “He was an old cat and couldn’t move very fast.”)
His face was grey with a wide white stripe down the middle. Maribou said “his face looks like a baseball jersey.”
Losing a kitty is so terribly hard. Thing about much-loved cats is this: they never really die. My girlfriend and I still laugh about things Purdy did.
Purdy came into my life an elderly kitty. My girlfriend brought her to me from Eau Claire to Eagan and left her with me in the hotel. The first time I saw her, I literally burst into tears, I’d been too long without a cat in my life. I whipped her into shape with cooked and pureed chicken livers and gizzards. Got almost a year more out of that cat.
But this isn’t about me or my cats. Just sayin’ I’ve been there. The Greeks say you’re not really dead until you’ve been forgotten. Baseball’s got quite a few more years on that front…..
I remembered what you once said about not begrudging giving your cat’s body to the vet.
It helped (a little).