Kitty grief update
(I was totally messing with you in the title.)
I had another good cry over the kitty tonight. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME??? I want to throw clumps of cat litter at the front door of the woman who won't give them back, but only a little bit. I'm glad she's attached to him. I'm sure that she can give him better care than I could, since she's a veterinary nurse (or whatever that job would be called). She promised to give me updates and that if ever, for some reason, she couldn't keep him, she would call me. However, she also promised she wouldn't go to any extraordinary measures to keep him alive, and wouldn't let him suffer.
It's really the ideal situation for him, so I won't throw any more of a fit about it. In public. But on here, I will!
I do feel as though I was bamboozled, a bit, and it is bewildering and confusing and it makes me angry. But ultimately it's my fault for allowing this situation to unfold as it did, since I feel certain the shelter rep would have returned him to me the night of his appointment if I had asked her to.
I suck.
Sigh.
I want to post about other things but I am obsessed with this situation. Obsessed, I tell you! And really there is nothing else going on in my life besides work and a chronic upset stomach and a lot of snow. Any the baby kitty was obsessed with me, back. But Isabella is obsessed with the girls and Rex is obsessed with sleeping in the back room and that leaves me alone in my office once again.
It's all quite tragic.
The boys started back to preschool today and they are apparently over the whole preschool thing. And H is over potty training -- she pees through all her undies in a single day and then gets to wear diapers for a day or two until we get all her undies clean, and then does it again. She's clever. And annoying.
Okay, I'm back to scouring Petfinder for baby kitty's doppelganger who will come here to make my life complete once more.
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4 comments:
Animals get under your skin. Sometimes literally, like fleas and tapeworms. Other times, emotionally. I don't know why, but people bond with different cats. I have a strong bond with one of our cats because he seems to have an anxiety disorder and so do I. Once he ran away for two weeks and I as a mess, a complete mess. I thought it was all my fault. I cried everyday. It was horrible. Cats do represent things for us, they are often like metaphors, like you say, about your children growing up. They are soft and purr. They are cute when they wash their own faces. Its not your fault and you are not weird to be sad. love, me.
No desire to get a dog? True, cats are much easier to take care of (and you can leave them for a few days and not feel guilty) but think of what a hero you would be for the kids with a dog! Sorry, I'm a dog lover so I have to push my view :-)
its okay to be waCKEDout by the loss of the kitty... be all generous and compassionate with your bad self. loss is loss is loss, etc.
i'll read as much kitty-sadness as you can muster.
There was a time, that I was totally the Crazy Cat Lady. Then loss strikes, and it makes it really hard. My 'cat' who was really a stray had kittens. Suddenly, we had these four baby kitties. That stray picked me, not the other way around. She came home with my cat, Harley, after one of her escape attempts. She was the most adorable cat you have ever seen, but, she was mean. She bit anything that moved, and that included me. After a bit, she took to hanging around outside our door, and walking with me on my nightly walks, that cat followed me for 2 miles, every night. When she had kittens, just after Harley, she had them in my bathroom. Always shy of my house, the night her kittens were born, she was waiting at my door. She gave birth to four kittens which she left with me. She returned to feed them every couple of hours, never staying longer than she needed to. Harley became very ill shortly after her litter was born, and after five weeks, she passed, and Annabelle took over Harley's litter too. Annie and I also became fast friends. We lost two from Annie's litter, one from Harley's early on, and then my favorite of the bunch, Donovan at nearly 6 months. I have lost family, and I have lost friends, but losing Donovan was the hardest thing I've ever been through. *Fun Fact, my three year old is actually named after the same football player that Donovan was named after, only, my son carries his last name.* After that I lost Deuce and David, and found out that one of my adoptive parents had tossed her kitten out in the streets after a bad break-up which necessitated a move. Ever since, the only cats I've had are Toby and Foxy who are still with me from years ago, because I find that I grow too attached. I still hang the stockings for my lost ones at Christmas, and I still cry every time I do so. Cats are special. When the day comes that I lose Toby, well, let me just say that my husband often says, that he hopes for my sake, I go first.
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