I do miss her so much. She’s been gone from us for at least two weeks but I still feel her quietly and cautiously “owning the house”. Oh yes, she was the boss alright, no mistaking that. Jimmy knew it too and kept out of her way. The bigger of the two and male to boot, he was actually afraid of Pussh, despite her 15+ years.
I remember the day she came into our lives, remember it like it was the other day. She was up at the start to Charleville woods in the thick briars meowing in a frantic fashion; as if to say, “please take me home with you and feed me. This mother of mine is throwing me out to the wolves. Please protect me, save me from my mother, pleeeeeease!”
So she did come home with us that day and here she stayed, ever aloof but faithful, always quietly present, never letting us down. RIP PUSSH
I didn’t set out to play God that afternoon, I really didn’t. Nor did mama, our one eyed cat, imagine for one second that I would be making Godlike decisions that would directly affect her for the “rest of her life”. If only I hadn’t seen the trail of blood that, emanating from the sore on her mouth, was falling everywhere and was about to stain the couch as she made to jump up on it. If only I hadn’t seen that, I might not have decided there and then to bring her to the vet without further ado. The wound was getting worse by the day and although the vet had said that there wasn’t much to do but wait and let it heal by itself, 2 months was a little too long of a wait.
So, much to her distaste, I put her into a little pet cage and into the car she went meowing and protesting about her new whereabouts. Down at the vet’s the prognosis was terrible; a wound that would never heal, a cat who was too old to withstand an operation. The only thing for it was to put her down. She was in terrible pain and the most humane thing to do now was to put her out of her misery. So there I stood with the power to either let it happen or put a stop to it. Oh God!! What to do!, vet whispering in one ear to do it, my sadness saying don’t do it. In the end the deed was done in an instant. A lethal injection into the belly and within 10 seconds she went limp, all her body anesthetized and feeling no pain, no panic, I was assured. That’s when I felt like God, doling out Life or Death at will, sentencing to death a poor little cat, who never did anyone any harm, deciding her fate for her, curtailing her life as if it were mine to do so. There was a moment before I gave the “go ahead” signal to the vet when I said to myself “you can just leave now quickly and don’t look back” but then I thought Pain is a terrible thing and if there’s no way to stop it except through ending the life the pain belongs to then so be it.
And now there’s no more mama; gone for good. Only the memory of one who never complained remains. She took whatever she was given, no more, no less, loved her belly rubs, loved to sleep on Miguel’s bed, fought now and then with our other cat ( I never knew who used to start those fights.)
Mama, I hope you’re in a better place now. I am truly sorry that I had to act “God” and end your life
Who let this cat out of the bag? Or more aptly, who put it in the bag? I have a sneaking suspicion that she got in there herself. She has, what you might say, a penchant for bags. Another curious cat!!!
I hope nobody thinks I’m getting obsessed about cats as I blog so much about them!!!
puss drinking water
Our wee cat, when she wants a sup of water, comes to the sink and takes what is “rightfully” hers without so much as a by your leave. But we love it and so does any one visiting who happens to witness the scene. It really is a funny sight. She won’t drink water from her bowl, let it be noted, only straight from the tap. Curious Cat!!!