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Save me from dogs!

Every Yesterday

February 21st 2006 8:01 am
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The last couple weeks she became increasingly lethargic. She still had an appetite and was able to put up a concert of meows for dinner. However she became a caracature of herself; the tumor grew until she had a pot belly but the bones in her hips and back protruded, her feet were boney and her eyes began to sink in. The fur on her ears began to go missing.

We watched her this weekend. We saw that she labored up the stairs to see us, and when she laid down she pulled her hind legs up to her belly. She purred constantly. She communicated her pain clearly.

Yesterday we took her to the vet. Instead of her usual frantic behavior she watched the proceedings dully. I saw the light vanish from her eyes, the pupils grow wide and distant as the sedatives took away the last fight from her. Then at last her body relaxed. How I little realised how cramped by disease she had been; when death finally came she lay like a healthy cat, her legs no longer clenched to the body. It was truly peace at last and the right thing to do.

Its all yesterdays for Izzy now. No more making silly sounds at birds. None of the flicking tail that said it all; "go away human". Not even the yowling meows or the way she could always find a patch of sun. All yesterdays.


Still ticking

January 23rd 2006 4:24 pm
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Aunty and mom think I don't seem all that sick. Sure the microscope slides say I am sick, and the blood tests and everything else, but I am still going along doing my thing and demanding food. MORE FOOD!

Also along with being hungry I am hanging out more with the people because after all these years I finally figured out that if you really pester the heck out of any one human, they'll go fill up your bowl and clean up your box and give you fresh water.

Anyhow they tell me that they love me when I come up and see them working on their computers. Its like I discovered that they like me and they never meant any harm when they took me to the vet and brought the dogs into the house and at least aunty wishes I had been like this when I was feeling 100% myself. You know they'll miss me now that I am no longer the blur of brown fur that used to hiss at unwanted attention. Its strange that I am reaching the end and there is finally an understanding between all of us. Such sadness that it won't last long.


Don't count me out until its over...

December 19th 2005 9:35 am
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Two days before thanksgiving I was taken to the vet after auntie bumped into me one too many times. You know I've always been graceful and quick, never underfoot. She also noticed that when she picked me up my belly felt like there was a round bowl in it.

Well the vet looked me over and got all grim. You see the "bowl" is my spleen. My spleen is full of cancer and what's more I also got leukemia (not the viral one, but the blood cancer).

The last few weeks the cancer has been getting bigger, big enough that I look pregnant. There's nothing to be done for me since its in my blood. Yes it will kill me, but in the meantime I just want love. I purr all day and cuddle in the bed and I need lots of food!

I see all the letters I got and I am so thankful that so many people love me and understand...and that other people are seeing their beloved cats suffer through this long drawing down of the curtain. How we all wished that the things we love would just one day come to an end without something destroying them from within. Death by cancer is a true horror.


pigeon memories

October 31st 2004 12:10 am
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Way back when I was younger, I used to live in a high building shaded by a big maple tree with a view of the far off lake and mountains. That was BD (before dogs), when a cat could rule a window sill without fear of being sniffed and licked.

Anyways, the outside of this place was infested with the fattest, juiciest, best fast-food fed pigeons anywhere. Not only that, but the windows didn't have screens, so to keep the place cool the humans had to have them ajar.

Ah, the many times that I swept my claws through those cracks at those plump birdy bellies. What joy in the fact that they never learned and always came back and perched. Once my pleasure was great in the hunt, for I got one of those birds and dragged her through the crack. My intention was to bat it around a bit and spread blood, feathers and gore throughout my realm, but unfortunately I was caught in the act...pigeon was taken away. Oh but how manificient was my trophy! How big, how singularly succulent...wish the humans had been out...

Sometimes when I dream you can tell I am thinking of pigeons. I sweep my claws thus, and my mouth opens in a big grin.


My foot is ok, now feed me

October 18th 2004 6:00 pm
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Ok, so I got to go to the vet.

They gave me some of that funny gas and decided that not only would they make my foot better, they'd clean up all my teeth.

Vet was very amazed because I am 18 and all my teeth were still there under all that tartar! It's all those mice I used to eat - fur is good for flossing.

The other strange thing is that I am now an entirely indoor kitty. The humans decided I am getting kinda old and slow (they wish), so its better if I stay inside. I got my own litterbox and my foodbowls are now UPSTAIRS! (yay!). No need to go into the basement for anything. I can't say I miss being cold and wet when I need to go potty.

They've been feeding me twice a day - service is pretty good. Wonder if a third feeding is possible? YOOOWWWRR YOOOWRRR!!! Starving! starving!


I'm not leg always looks like that!

October 15th 2004 9:09 am
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Every morning I am hungry. I yowl.

This morning should not have been any different.

Well...but I went out last night and got in a spot of trouble. It caused my hind leg to swell up somewhat like a banana. Yeah it hurts, but I want my breakfast. Not like it's bleeding...just a little bit of swelling...twice normal size. Dammit I AM HUNGRY!!!!

"Poor kitty, poor Belly." Mom says repeatedly. She's not feeding me though. So I gimp around looking for my food. I even come upstairs and yowl. I'm hungry enough that the dogs are not bothering me.

The basement door is closed so there is no way back to my food bowl.

Oh no. The cat carrier. I can't move fast enough to avoid being slammed inside. The top is locked in place and we are headed for the car and the vet.

I hate vets and there's been no food! ABUSE ABUSE!!!!


Birthday musings

October 2nd 2004 11:37 pm
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I was born eighteen years ago sometime around now. Like many kitties I was unwanted, so the people who should have cared for me and seen to it that I was given a decent home, or at least brought me to the local shelter, put me and my brothers and sisters in a box.

I still remember that the morning was frosty. I remember the musty dark interior of the box and the smell of fear coming from myself and my siblings. All close together in the box, feeling the car moving. Then the feeling of tumbling as the box was pushed out of the car and hearing the mad acceleration of my people speeding away from their responsibility.

That seems what alot of people do, speed from their responsibility. It's a shame. I've never hurt anyone. I take very little energy to love and care for. I just like to sleep and keep warm and occasionaly knead your lap into submission.

There is of course the next memory of someone opening up the top of the box and seeing us. The voice of compassion, the person who took us indoors where it was warm and fed us, and found us all good homes. There is cruelty in the world, but there is also mercy.

So today I was casual. Mainly I avoided the dogs, but I did enjoy the last fall sunshine today. Its going to be wet soon and my favorite spots will get moss on them again. My owner has promised a big sprig of catnip tomorrow for my big day. I am very much looking forward to it...and then I shall have a long drug induced nap.

I complain alot about my home, but given the fate that many abandoned cats in this world meet...I'll take this dog infested house.


Basement = Banality

September 24th 2004 9:24 am
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The basement is a Loooonngggg walk. For some reason the "owners" (in cat language the same word is servant or perhaps slave) have seen fit to put my bowl down the stairs and on cold, hard concrete.

The reason for this is clear.

I used to live in a dog-free environment. However, when the first mutt arrived it stole my food (I eat slowly, like a proper lady) and then had runny poo all over. So my food was hidden away behind a door and the owners cut a hole in the door that I can get through.

Damned dogs. So in the morning or evenings I set up a yowling about food. It's no so much about the food as it is about the unfairness of being forced from my warm place on the bed near the window to eat food in the uncivilized conditions of the basement laundry room. Really now, I came first, why aren't the dogs eating in the laundry room and my food brought upstairs to the bed where I like to sleep? Bed and breakfast for ladies of refinement...

Then there's the fact that these dogs like to sniff me...and the first one likes to lick me like I am a kitten (ick...and I am most certainly NOT a kitten). Of course these dogs like to stare at me and talk amongst themselves about having a 'herding feeling'. This is sometimes followed by them trying to control my movements and usually ends with my claws planted in their soft little noses. Barbarians, crude, stinking barbarians.

Hmmm, where's my food? Servant!!! Chop chop! Yooooowwwrrrrrr!!!!

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