My beautiful girl, 2007

You have to know this is going to be sad, right? If you can’t hack (and that’s cool, I don’t see movies with unhappy endings) come back in a few days for the return to happy blogging (I hope). Otherwise, click to continue.

It happened so fast. A few days ago we saw that she had lost weight. On Wednesday, she got a goopy eye. She always got goopy eyes, but got over them in a day or two. Thursday night she started to wobble when she walked and the goopy eye morphed into something red and horrible. On Friday morning she was wobbling worse, so when the vet office opened I made an a vet appointment for 6:15 that evening. At lunchtime, she had difficulty staying standing. After lunch, WM had to help her out of the litter box. Her face was thin and drawn. By then we knew that she wasn’t long for the world.

Our vet confirmed our suspicions. Misty had a large mass in her stomach (why did I never feel this?) that spread to her face (what we thought was a goopy eye was something worse) and at that point her suggestion would be to put her down. This cat never ever complained. I don’t get that. I wish she had moaned a bit a few months ago. Then we may be in a different situation today.

So we made the horrible choice. I hate that choice. Some people have pets that just die at home. No waiting, no “choice.” I’m sure it’s absolutely horrific to find a dead pet in the middle of your floor or on your bed. But I’m looking at it from the other direction. It’s my lot in life to be the perpetual plug-puller. But one good thing that I can take from this is until we took her to the vet tonight, she was in her home that she loved. Mickey and Noelle spent their last days in vet cages with needles and tubes. I think Misty was luckier that way.

The procedure was quick. She was gone in the first few seconds. Unlike when I chickened out for Mickey and Noelle, this time I stayed right at Misty’s head…kissing her velvety ears and whispering goodnight. I must be stronger now than I used to be.

Her eyes never closed. Misty had the prettiest green eyes I’ve ever seen on a cat, and it’s horribly unfair that on her last day, one eye was angry red and blind.

AKA Misty-meow, Meowth, Lolth, Little Black Raincloud

Fifteen years is a long time. Realize that when I brought Misty home, I wasn’t even married yet and the “home” was actually Mom’s home where we hung out in my teenhood bedroom. Misty moved three times with me and sat by my side through some pretty tough moments. Sure, she’d stare at me angrily about some perceived slight, but company’s company, you know?

The thing I’ll remember most about Misty is her voice. Oh my gosh could that cat holler. Kitten Misty meowed the moment I put her in the car to take her home that first night and continued meowing for fifteen years. She’d never actually meow, but instead would let out a screechy “Myaaah” sound. Over and over. “Myaaaa. AAAAAA. Myaaa-aa-aaa.” Sometimes she’d open her mouth to meow, and no sound ever came out. Those we called silent meows.

Tonight she only meowed once, when we put her carrier in the car. She silent meowed when the tech took her temperature (wouldn’t you?). That made us laugh in spite of the situation.

She’s always been on the grumpy and unpleasant side so for years I called her my little black raincloud, like the Pooh song:

I’m just a little black rain cloud,
Hovering under the honey tree.
I’m only a little black rain cloud,
Pay no attention to me.

Oh, everyone knows that a rain cloud,
Never eats honey, no, not a nip.
I’m just floating around, over the ground,
Wondering where I will drip.

Misty always had a spot where she’d lay. She’d stay in that spot for months and months, but once you got used to her being there, she’d move. When we moved into the dee-luxe apartment in the sky, she chose the bedroom. She’d switch every few months from the floor to the bed and back again. This spring, she joined the rest of us in the living room and decided to hang by the bookcase. Weird, but I’m glad she did. I wonder if she knew she was nearing her end?

in ur face

There’s not much more to add to this huge rambling post other than I’m currently sobbing my heart out and I guess it’s good that she kept switching her spots because I don’t expect to see her in one spot. Then again, it’s bad because I expect to see her everywhere.

We have TWO water bowls here for you. Two water bowls so that you can drink separately without having to endure the other species’ stink which apparently offends you so.

But as much as you like YOUR bowl, there is another bowl. So if your bowl is empty and you start complaining, and I get up and the OTHER bowl is brimming with water, I’m a-gonna be pissed.

The four of you would make a very nice coat.

Love, me

PS: Ollie, if you drop your slobbery Kong Binkie on me while I’m in bed one more time I’m chucking it out the window.

Weekend in a nutshell: Mom’s Family BDay dinner friday at the Olive. No drinking, no bread. World of Warcraft Saturday/Sunday. Leota, the undead mage is now 15! Wings win 15-8! I’m up WAY too late for a Sunday night.

Upcoming Work week: End of month reports tomorrow. Training on Tuesday. New product launch on Wednesday. (bueno?) Can’t say much more due to suspected moles at work.

Upcoming Social week: Birthday party tomorrow night. (must buy gift for 5-yo girl) Flower Show on Wednesday. Aunt’s BDay dinner on Friday (must buy gift for ??-yo woman). Baby shower luncheon SOMETIME this week. (Oh, please not tomorrow! Must buy gift for unknown-gender baby)

Survivor: Lordy Lordy Lordy, am I in full-on Survivor Love with Fireman Tom. He’s a leader! He’s a workhorse! He kills snakes and tries to kill sharks! He’s the best survivor I’ve seen in seasons – meaning he has a huge target on his back and will probably be out soon. Nonetheless, this season of Survivor is one of the best in recent memory. Everyone I hated is gone and there are at least 5 who I wouldn’t mind seeing make it to the end. If you enjoyed the early seasons of Survivor and grew bored/pissed with the later seasons, try to catch Survivor:Palau.

Pet update: Max – still trying desperately to catch rabbits. Charlie – has picked up the strange habit of yowling after 11pm until I go up to bed. Misty – still scowly.

Diet update: Fridge is full of healthy (healthful?) stuff. This week, breakfast will be yogurt and two prunes. (Prunes suggested in my “French Women Don’t get Fat” book) Mid morning snack will be sugar free jello. Lunches will vary, depending on the errands I need to do at lunch. (See “Social week,” above) I have Graham crackers, Ritz Bits, and Smartfood popcorn bags, too. They’ll rotate through “Drive-home snack” duty. I’m going to try to homecook my dinners, and add lemon juice to my water to aid digestion.

Thursdays are now Size-Ten Thursdays, wherein I try on a size-10 item of clothing. So far I’m 2 for 2, both with size-10 pants. I wonder how my size 10 shorts fit? Because one never knows when one may be plunged into a warm environment and need shorts, hm?

Welcome home, Martha!

Cat yowling. Time for bed.