Pearl Johnson Carrasco - 1992-2011
Pearl, our longtime companion cat, passed away on February 14, 2011. She will be sorely missed - she already is. Walking in the house every day, I was greeted by her on the chair or the couch with usually a plaintive MEOW, which meant, BRING ME FOOD.
But today, I walked in to an empty house and yes I noticed the difference immediately.
Pearl came into my life through Peter.... She came into Peter's life through Jon Bailey, who named her Pearl (Bailey, get it?). He didn't like her, so he gave her to Jens, who didn't like her either. Peter joined that club and they just thought she was an ornery bitch...
I moved in with Peter about two years into our relationship, and two weeks later, Peter went on a month long trip to Russia with the chorus. He didn't tell me Pearl wasn't allowed on the bed, or didn't sleep in the bed with him - because, well, she did with me. For a good long month.
When Peter returned he realized that Pearl could be a sweet cat and that she gravitated towards those who cared for her... I don't think anyone ever did. She didn't really like to be held...until she knew you a little better.
Eventually, as some people will note, she became a warm, sweet, loving companion to us both... but she also knew what each of us was to her. When Peter woke up, it was time to eat. When I went to bed, it was time to sleep.
Eventually, I would be getting ready for bed, and she would already be on the bed. She waited until I was under the covers, and then took her spot.
She never spent the ENTIRE night there - only until Peter came to bed, maybe a little after.
Also, much to Peter's annoyance, when I was out of town, she wouldn't do this nightly routine of staying in the bed. Peter would be in bed, and she would hop on the bed, notice that I was gone, and then walk out. Peter said he even tried to pretend he was me a couple of times... The thought of this makes me smile.
About a year ago, Christmas, Pearl took a turn... we had been feeding her canned cat food for a long time, and then one day she just stopped eating. She was drinking an awful lot of water, though. And peeing all over the place.
My friend Dale said that in his cat's last days, they gave her baby food. So we did the same for Pearl, preparing for our final days. This was 2009. Well, you can guess what happened. She gobbled the baby food up... for almost three days straight, we fed her baby food as much as we could.
She bounced RIGHT BACK! We realized there was something about the canned cat food that she was rejecting.
"I almost DIED!" we pretended to hear her say.
Finally about a week ago, she took another turn. She stopped eating again. We took her to the vet on Friday, and they ran some tests. They gave us some medication to feed to her orally - like holding her head and using a dropper... but that traumatized her so much, we couldn't bear it! After the first three times of that, she would be drooling and trembling.. and it was terrible to watch. I told Peter that was going to kill her.
On Sunday, we decided to take her back to the doctor and see if they could do something about her not eating, and the other symptoms which were becoming worse. She was becoming more and more disoriented... and I could tell it was not getting better. She stopped eating completely on Saturday - she would just look at any food we gave her... We knew something had to be done.
The doctor called me with the test results. Her hyper-thyroidism was off the charts. This was bad since we were already giving her thyroid medication. Her kidneys were getting worse. (I learned even worse later). And she had a urinary tract infection.
Sunday night, Peter and I discussed if we had to, would we put her down. She was in some sort of other state of mind... I could tell. Wandering around the house, unsettled... not rested. I said I would see what the doctor said, and then make that decision. Peter asked me, "Will you take of this?"
I said I would, if that's what he wanted. And he did. I told him if the doctor said she would just get worse, and we would just be prolonging the inevitable, I would make that decision there. But against hope, I thought maybe they would tell me some good news.
I slept out on the couch and Pearl came and slept next to me every once and awhile. But she was so restless she would get up, wander around, look at her water, then come back to me. I barely slept as a result. I knew there was something up with her.
At 7am Monday morning, I took Pearl into the vet's. But I knew what the answer was going to be anyway. I knew this would be the last trip with her, and I walked in and started crying. They took a look at the charts... and called me in with her to one of the rooms.
They weighed her... I think she had already lost 2 lbs since the previous week. The doctor came in and I asked if it was worth it to give her an antibiotic for the urinary infection, or what we should do.
She went through the problems: Kidneys are failing. signs of dementia, thyroid off the charts ("the worst I have seen" the doctor said), something with her phospherous... i am not quite sure...
She said, "We could put her in the hospital for a week or so..." and I knew that wasn't going to happen. I knew what the decision was. And, knowing Peter and I had discussed it, I made the decision.
Right then, I picked up Pearl and held her. She had been wander around the examining room - but once I picked her up she calmed down immediately. She was rested now. Relaxed. And the doctor explained what the procedure would be. The calm about her, the tranquil state she was in, told me it was all okay. It like, she knew it was time for her to go, and she rested her head in the curve of my arm. I petted her gently.
The vet asked if I wanted to be there for it and I said yes. They said they would take her and give her a sedative first, to calm her. And they took her away from me.
I called Peter and told him what was up. He thanked me... and then I waited. The vet came back in with Pearl, and handed her to me... the sedative kicked in and she fell asleep in my arms. The vet then asked me to bring her to the table, and as they administered the dose which would put her to her final sleep, I stroked Pearl's head and told her that I loved her. I somehow knew this was just the right thing.
A few of the other assistants were there, helping out, and they were crying. I would imagine they see this a lot but it never gets easy. They left me with her, to spend some time with her. I did.
I actually went to work after this. I cried there. People asked me what was wrong. I cried telling them. Eventually I gave up and just came home... and that was when it really hit me. I cried uncontrollably - deep deep sobbing - for about ten minutes. When Peter finally came home, with flowers for Valentine's and Pearl, we both cried in each other's arms. This dear sweet cat had affected us both so much. She was such a part of our lives, and now that was gone. I was grief-stricken...
Pearl passed away at 8:15am February 14th, 2011. Valentine's Day. She was much loved.
But today, I walked in to an empty house and yes I noticed the difference immediately.
Pearl came into my life through Peter.... She came into Peter's life through Jon Bailey, who named her Pearl (Bailey, get it?). He didn't like her, so he gave her to Jens, who didn't like her either. Peter joined that club and they just thought she was an ornery bitch...
I moved in with Peter about two years into our relationship, and two weeks later, Peter went on a month long trip to Russia with the chorus. He didn't tell me Pearl wasn't allowed on the bed, or didn't sleep in the bed with him - because, well, she did with me. For a good long month.
When Peter returned he realized that Pearl could be a sweet cat and that she gravitated towards those who cared for her... I don't think anyone ever did. She didn't really like to be held...until she knew you a little better.
Eventually, as some people will note, she became a warm, sweet, loving companion to us both... but she also knew what each of us was to her. When Peter woke up, it was time to eat. When I went to bed, it was time to sleep.
Eventually, I would be getting ready for bed, and she would already be on the bed. She waited until I was under the covers, and then took her spot.
She never spent the ENTIRE night there - only until Peter came to bed, maybe a little after.
Also, much to Peter's annoyance, when I was out of town, she wouldn't do this nightly routine of staying in the bed. Peter would be in bed, and she would hop on the bed, notice that I was gone, and then walk out. Peter said he even tried to pretend he was me a couple of times... The thought of this makes me smile.
About a year ago, Christmas, Pearl took a turn... we had been feeding her canned cat food for a long time, and then one day she just stopped eating. She was drinking an awful lot of water, though. And peeing all over the place.
My friend Dale said that in his cat's last days, they gave her baby food. So we did the same for Pearl, preparing for our final days. This was 2009. Well, you can guess what happened. She gobbled the baby food up... for almost three days straight, we fed her baby food as much as we could.
She bounced RIGHT BACK! We realized there was something about the canned cat food that she was rejecting.
"I almost DIED!" we pretended to hear her say.
Finally about a week ago, she took another turn. She stopped eating again. We took her to the vet on Friday, and they ran some tests. They gave us some medication to feed to her orally - like holding her head and using a dropper... but that traumatized her so much, we couldn't bear it! After the first three times of that, she would be drooling and trembling.. and it was terrible to watch. I told Peter that was going to kill her.
On Sunday, we decided to take her back to the doctor and see if they could do something about her not eating, and the other symptoms which were becoming worse. She was becoming more and more disoriented... and I could tell it was not getting better. She stopped eating completely on Saturday - she would just look at any food we gave her... We knew something had to be done.
The doctor called me with the test results. Her hyper-thyroidism was off the charts. This was bad since we were already giving her thyroid medication. Her kidneys were getting worse. (I learned even worse later). And she had a urinary tract infection.
Sunday night, Peter and I discussed if we had to, would we put her down. She was in some sort of other state of mind... I could tell. Wandering around the house, unsettled... not rested. I said I would see what the doctor said, and then make that decision. Peter asked me, "Will you take of this?"
I said I would, if that's what he wanted. And he did. I told him if the doctor said she would just get worse, and we would just be prolonging the inevitable, I would make that decision there. But against hope, I thought maybe they would tell me some good news.
I slept out on the couch and Pearl came and slept next to me every once and awhile. But she was so restless she would get up, wander around, look at her water, then come back to me. I barely slept as a result. I knew there was something up with her.
At 7am Monday morning, I took Pearl into the vet's. But I knew what the answer was going to be anyway. I knew this would be the last trip with her, and I walked in and started crying. They took a look at the charts... and called me in with her to one of the rooms.
They weighed her... I think she had already lost 2 lbs since the previous week. The doctor came in and I asked if it was worth it to give her an antibiotic for the urinary infection, or what we should do.
She went through the problems: Kidneys are failing. signs of dementia, thyroid off the charts ("the worst I have seen" the doctor said), something with her phospherous... i am not quite sure...
She said, "We could put her in the hospital for a week or so..." and I knew that wasn't going to happen. I knew what the decision was. And, knowing Peter and I had discussed it, I made the decision.
Right then, I picked up Pearl and held her. She had been wander around the examining room - but once I picked her up she calmed down immediately. She was rested now. Relaxed. And the doctor explained what the procedure would be. The calm about her, the tranquil state she was in, told me it was all okay. It like, she knew it was time for her to go, and she rested her head in the curve of my arm. I petted her gently.
The vet asked if I wanted to be there for it and I said yes. They said they would take her and give her a sedative first, to calm her. And they took her away from me.
I called Peter and told him what was up. He thanked me... and then I waited. The vet came back in with Pearl, and handed her to me... the sedative kicked in and she fell asleep in my arms. The vet then asked me to bring her to the table, and as they administered the dose which would put her to her final sleep, I stroked Pearl's head and told her that I loved her. I somehow knew this was just the right thing.
A few of the other assistants were there, helping out, and they were crying. I would imagine they see this a lot but it never gets easy. They left me with her, to spend some time with her. I did.
I actually went to work after this. I cried there. People asked me what was wrong. I cried telling them. Eventually I gave up and just came home... and that was when it really hit me. I cried uncontrollably - deep deep sobbing - for about ten minutes. When Peter finally came home, with flowers for Valentine's and Pearl, we both cried in each other's arms. This dear sweet cat had affected us both so much. She was such a part of our lives, and now that was gone. I was grief-stricken...
Pearl passed away at 8:15am February 14th, 2011. Valentine's Day. She was much loved.