(no subject)
It's been a long long while but I feel like this of all places is the place to say this (although I've already said it on facebook and myspace). My cat is dying. I took her to the vet yesterday and he gave us some medication for some minor problems she'd been having but also did some blood work and they got the results back today. It's renal failure. Which coincidentally enough is what Mandy's son, Simon, died from 2 years ago July 2nd. I'm taking tomorrow off from school. The vet said the only thing we could really do is make her comfortable. We could do some IVs to prolong her life and make it a little better but there's no guarantee that it'll work. In fact, it really won't do much good at all. So I'm taking tomorrow off from school as I said, to spend the day with her; mom can't handle seeing her so weak and she has a lot of work to do so she's going to work. I don't know how productive she'll be though. So now the hours tick by and Mandy's life is deteriorating. She still has a little spunk in her. Swishes her tail all sassy like. But she can't hardly walk. She has irregular breathing that goes back to normal after a little while. I wrote about her. To her. I told her all my deepest secrets, we always had a magnificent way of connecting. I could read her like none other and she the same. It's this connection unlike anything. I've had her since I was 5. She's 2 years younger than I am and so she's like a sister to me. I never had any siblings. I just had my cats. And they were mine. And I was theirs. They are mine and I am theirs. Forever. Always. So as soon as I was told I decided I'd like to keep her and have her for the sunrise on the morning of the 2nd. It was about when we let Simon go and the sunrise always reminds me of him. So Mandy and I will be together then and then when my mom gets home we'll let her go. That is if her condition doesn't worsen. She's my Mandycat and I'm her kid. I'm always able to relax her when she's too wound up. I can't be there though. When it happens. I've already seen a man die --- that's another story --- and I had to deal with that and I just could never see her go. I'll be with her for every second of her life but she knows. Because I told her when her son died. She understands why. It all sound so overly sentimental but Mandy and I are unlike anything else. I won't sleep tonight. I have to monitor her. She won't go as miserably as Simon did; all hooked up to IVs in a metal cage. She'll be at home. And comfortable. She's not as bad as Simon was although it hit her just as quickly as it hit him.
I'd like to tell you the story about her, I think it's short:
It all started when I first moved down to Vancouver from Spokane. I had wanted an animal for as long as I could remember. Dog or cat. Either was good. I wanted a companion. I moved down here and was lucky enought to get two. Mandy and Simon, a mother and son my grammy got from her sister in-law. They were skittish for the first month or so. Which was disappointing and frustrating. I had cats but they didn't have me. The moment that changed it all was once I was crying (I don't remember why. I think my mom does though) and sitting on the floor with my back against my bed and my mom with her arms around me and all of a sudden there was something moving next to me on the other side. It was Mandy. She had heard me crying and came to see what was wrong. I loved her forever from that moment on.
My heart is broken. I spent most of today crying, wailing, in agony. That's the most appropriate word for this. Agony. I can feel it. And this clutch in my chest cavity is my broken heart. I love her. My eyes are sore. When I rub them they sting. My sunburn doesn't help. I'm exhausted but I have to keep an eye on her. I'll be there for it all. So she has company. I can't leave her alone in a dark house for a whole night. I'm going to be alone for quite awhile. It doesn't help that I was already feeling lonely. But my Mandycat is so lovely a beautiful. I wish you all could've met her.