There was a time when I might have written this differently. I might have started with the time that my cat staggered into the shower while it was still on and just stood there, dull-eyed and dazed while the water fell on her. I might talk about the many trips to the vet, the pancreatitis, the enlarged kidney, the high levels of calcium in her
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The same thing happened to my mother a few months ago. 2014 has not been a good year for cats.
A lot of people thought that my mother took it particularly hard at the time, but I have pretty strong understanding of why that felt so awful. I recall her saying that she felt as if her luck had run out. I feel like mine has run out a bit.
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It is dumb that cats live short lives and human live long ones. If I knew where to send it, I would file a bug report.
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I have that weird feeling that I suspect haunts habitual writers that I owe her passing a better piece of writing than this.
In the mornings, when Perl jumps onto the bed, I still expect the sound of Ada jumping up after her.
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I wish we'd had a better idea of the cause of her illness. If the vet had found cancer or if she'd had hepatic lipidosis again, somehow I think it would be easier to comprehend. Under stress, I am still fundamentally an engineer--I want to know why things are broken. Like most stress reactions, I know it's ridiculous. Knowing what killed my cat will not make her any less dead.
J and I argue about whether or not Perl misses her sister. J insists that Perl is being more clingy than usual. I think Perl is just thrilled to have Bunker 3 all to herself.
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I want another cat because I want my cat. Perl does not appear to feel to same way. Besides, there's no way to be sure that a new cat would love me best. I venture it would be unlikely, given that J now stays home living a life of retired leisure and I travel all over the place.
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One of my co-workers has recently started fostering feral kittens. We had a lawyer in the office who did this years ago and it was fantastic. I am treating my cat-related stress by applying a kitten poultice once a day. They are all boy kittens and none of them are entirely black, so there is no chance that I will take one home, but they are tiny and very sweet and they make me feel better.
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And I understand you, entirely, about wishing you knew what caused her death. I've been on that road; it's a rough one.
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