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Just the Three of Us
Mar. 23rd, 2011 02:19 amTook Pippen to the vet before work, hoping to get some kind of pain medication or something and then take her home. But they said her kidneys were failing and Mom and Dad talked with the vet by phone and said to put her down. It was clearly more humane than putting her in the hospital with an IV for days, after which she likely still wouldn't be better, but it upset me to know that she spent her last day with me, her archenemy.
I tried to let her bite me one more time, but she didn't even have the energy to scratch the vet. I petted her a lot, and she let me, which is a real sign that she felt terrible, and I told her this meant I won and got the house, because I thought she would still want me to think of her as an opponent. I stayed with her for the shot even though I think she would rather have been left alone. Scarlett says cats usually wait to die until their favorite person (in this case Dad) is away, I guess out of embarrassment. So maybe she preferred that I be there as her least favorite person.
I worked all day and work was brutal; I was overscheduled and almost lost my voice. I cleaned up Pip's food dishes and favorite place to sleep, which have been a part of the house since my parents moved here when I was in high school. It looks less strange than having them still there, but it doesn't feel like home. I think it's worse because Pippen was such a horrible pet. I can find plenty of nice cats to pet, but I've never met another housecat who was allowed to be so horrible for so long, which I respected. I've left the upstairs doors open so Scarlett's cats can now roam the house, but they still expect to get in trouble for going into Pip's area.
She never seemed old to me, even at the end, even though I know she had arthritis and thyroid problems. I wish I could say I thought she lay a curse on me with her dying thought and is now haunting me with malice from beyond the grave, but I think she was too tired.
I tried to let her bite me one more time, but she didn't even have the energy to scratch the vet. I petted her a lot, and she let me, which is a real sign that she felt terrible, and I told her this meant I won and got the house, because I thought she would still want me to think of her as an opponent. I stayed with her for the shot even though I think she would rather have been left alone. Scarlett says cats usually wait to die until their favorite person (in this case Dad) is away, I guess out of embarrassment. So maybe she preferred that I be there as her least favorite person.
I worked all day and work was brutal; I was overscheduled and almost lost my voice. I cleaned up Pip's food dishes and favorite place to sleep, which have been a part of the house since my parents moved here when I was in high school. It looks less strange than having them still there, but it doesn't feel like home. I think it's worse because Pippen was such a horrible pet. I can find plenty of nice cats to pet, but I've never met another housecat who was allowed to be so horrible for so long, which I respected. I've left the upstairs doors open so Scarlett's cats can now roam the house, but they still expect to get in trouble for going into Pip's area.
She never seemed old to me, even at the end, even though I know she had arthritis and thyroid problems. I wish I could say I thought she lay a curse on me with her dying thought and is now haunting me with malice from beyond the grave, but I think she was too tired.
