(no subject)
The cat fell gravely ill on Friday. I stayed up all night with her; every time I laid back down, she cried for me. I clasped her little paw with one hand and she clasped my hand with her other front paw. She cried and I comforted her. It was the worst night of my life. She was so miserable and I wished I had the courage to help her end it.
The only thing that gave me any measure of comfort was that at nine a.m. on Saturday, the vet office would open and we could hopefully bring Belle there to be euthanized. When Dad called, they told him to wait until noon. It was unbearable. Belle kept crying out, I hadn't slept, and I felt so miserable.
Dad decided to take watch with her and I took a nap. When I woke up an hour later, she was gone. She fought for over a day. Dad buried her about twenty feet away from Ariel and Onyx. (Jade, our other cat, was euthanized at the vet's office over 24 years ago). He had a hard time finding earth that wasn't permafrost or otherwise hard as a rock.
I don't often see my father cry, but both my parents were reduced to tears. Hell, typing this up is making me tear up. God, I loved that cat. She was such a sweetheart. And she loved me so much. I was never that close to Ariel.
A few hours after Dad buried her, he said that we should start on Monday looking for another cat. This was too soon for me, because, to be honest, I'm not over Belle. And I didn't think it was fair to get another cat so soon--waiting two weeks to get Belle after Ariel passed away was hard. That felt like agony. This...this was my trying to get used to not having a cat in the house, because I didn't want another cat who wouldn't be like Belle.
Nonetheless, I scoured Petfinder.com to find calicos. Dad likes calicos. I wanted a tabby because I like tabbies. I also wanted, if we were going to get two cats, littermates. Most of the cats I located belonged to shelters that required a stringent background check, including home visitations (that Dad strictly objected to) prior to adopting. He didn't want to wait--I think he felt guilty over Belle's death. He hadn't taken her to the vet in some time before she fell ill. So I decided on a particular cat located in Randolph Animal Shelter.
Randolph is in Morris County, but it's not near my house. Distance wise, it's about 30 minutes from the house--about as far as Fair Lawn is to me. So it's about 20-25 miles from the house. However, Mom had an endocrinologist appointment in Denville, which is about a third of the way toward Randolph. So Dad decided to pack the two cat carriers, in case we walked out with two cats, and we left Denville for the animal shelter after the doctor.
It turned out that the cat I wanted, Momma Bell, was ineligible for adoption because there'd been some sort of outbreak. She, along with a bunch of other cats, were in quarantine. Dad was trying to find another calico to adopt. Meanwhile, a black cat with white paws and a white underbelly had claimed me. I was petting her and when I put my purse and coat down, she rested on them like they were now hers.
We inquired about adopting her, after Dad had given up his inquiries about the calicos (Momma Bell was ineligible, the other calico we saw was being adopted in a couple weeks and wasn't exactly friendly anyway, and the third wasn't up for adoption yet, plus she was grossly overweight). One of the women there mentioned that Mittens has a sibling and that they both came from a hoarding house, so they're used to other cats around. She said that they tried adopting Jingles out to a single cat home and he didn't do well, so he came back.
I said that I was interested, because I'd wanted littermates and Jingles claimed Mom as his. So at this point, Dad really had no choice. He looked at a Maine Coon, but the two cats were hanging around me and Mom. He asked for the papers, the shelter called the vet's office for references, and we got two cats for $50 because it was buy one, get one free. They also threw in dry cat food, a cat bed, and some toys.
Right now, they've apparently decided my room is home base. Mittens is curled up next to me and her brother Jingles is under the bed. They alternate which one is on the bed, although Jingles seems to prefer being underneath.
I'm glad we adopted them and saved two lives, but I still miss Belle. And I wasn't ready to adopt another cat. I feel a little torn. These cats are so loving, adorable, and sweet. They're also energetic and lively. But...they're not Belle. God, I loved that cat.
I'm going to end this now before I start tearing up again.
The only thing that gave me any measure of comfort was that at nine a.m. on Saturday, the vet office would open and we could hopefully bring Belle there to be euthanized. When Dad called, they told him to wait until noon. It was unbearable. Belle kept crying out, I hadn't slept, and I felt so miserable.
Dad decided to take watch with her and I took a nap. When I woke up an hour later, she was gone. She fought for over a day. Dad buried her about twenty feet away from Ariel and Onyx. (Jade, our other cat, was euthanized at the vet's office over 24 years ago). He had a hard time finding earth that wasn't permafrost or otherwise hard as a rock.
I don't often see my father cry, but both my parents were reduced to tears. Hell, typing this up is making me tear up. God, I loved that cat. She was such a sweetheart. And she loved me so much. I was never that close to Ariel.
A few hours after Dad buried her, he said that we should start on Monday looking for another cat. This was too soon for me, because, to be honest, I'm not over Belle. And I didn't think it was fair to get another cat so soon--waiting two weeks to get Belle after Ariel passed away was hard. That felt like agony. This...this was my trying to get used to not having a cat in the house, because I didn't want another cat who wouldn't be like Belle.
Nonetheless, I scoured Petfinder.com to find calicos. Dad likes calicos. I wanted a tabby because I like tabbies. I also wanted, if we were going to get two cats, littermates. Most of the cats I located belonged to shelters that required a stringent background check, including home visitations (that Dad strictly objected to) prior to adopting. He didn't want to wait--I think he felt guilty over Belle's death. He hadn't taken her to the vet in some time before she fell ill. So I decided on a particular cat located in Randolph Animal Shelter.
Randolph is in Morris County, but it's not near my house. Distance wise, it's about 30 minutes from the house--about as far as Fair Lawn is to me. So it's about 20-25 miles from the house. However, Mom had an endocrinologist appointment in Denville, which is about a third of the way toward Randolph. So Dad decided to pack the two cat carriers, in case we walked out with two cats, and we left Denville for the animal shelter after the doctor.
It turned out that the cat I wanted, Momma Bell, was ineligible for adoption because there'd been some sort of outbreak. She, along with a bunch of other cats, were in quarantine. Dad was trying to find another calico to adopt. Meanwhile, a black cat with white paws and a white underbelly had claimed me. I was petting her and when I put my purse and coat down, she rested on them like they were now hers.
We inquired about adopting her, after Dad had given up his inquiries about the calicos (Momma Bell was ineligible, the other calico we saw was being adopted in a couple weeks and wasn't exactly friendly anyway, and the third wasn't up for adoption yet, plus she was grossly overweight). One of the women there mentioned that Mittens has a sibling and that they both came from a hoarding house, so they're used to other cats around. She said that they tried adopting Jingles out to a single cat home and he didn't do well, so he came back.
I said that I was interested, because I'd wanted littermates and Jingles claimed Mom as his. So at this point, Dad really had no choice. He looked at a Maine Coon, but the two cats were hanging around me and Mom. He asked for the papers, the shelter called the vet's office for references, and we got two cats for $50 because it was buy one, get one free. They also threw in dry cat food, a cat bed, and some toys.
Right now, they've apparently decided my room is home base. Mittens is curled up next to me and her brother Jingles is under the bed. They alternate which one is on the bed, although Jingles seems to prefer being underneath.
I'm glad we adopted them and saved two lives, but I still miss Belle. And I wasn't ready to adopt another cat. I feel a little torn. These cats are so loving, adorable, and sweet. They're also energetic and lively. But...they're not Belle. God, I loved that cat.
I'm going to end this now before I start tearing up again.