tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025201337316610324.post333103351694287069..comments2023-12-31T20:43:08.499-05:00Comments on THE STILETTO GANG: Why the Dog Will Never Die in My BooksUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025201337316610324.post-61767601681718581002011-12-07T18:44:58.754-05:002011-12-07T18:44:58.754-05:00Well, in the past three years we've lost three...Well, in the past three years we've lost three cats. Pooky, the Queen of Cats, our half-Siamese, smoked tabby cat from Paris who died essentially from congestive heart failure almost three years ago at age 20. Just a few months before that we lost Midgie, at age nine to pancreatic cancer--she was our "principessa" who was a feral kitten with bad vision, but very brave. On Halloween of this year, our puppy-cat Desi, a 19.5 year old creamy-yellow tabby, became suddenly ill with what may have been a tumor in his skull or perhaps an infection. While doing so well on treatment for his long-term kidney disease and for a sudden bout of anemia, he began experiencing seizures and just seemed to be leaving us in spirit. We had to let the vet give him an injection to end his life, but our puppy-cat had started leaving us a few days before we had to let his little body go.<br /><br />All of this sad stuff is only sad exactly because of the many years of absolute joy we all had together. I saw a movie called Shadowlands about the relationship of the writer CS “Jack” Lewis and the woman he married late-in-life, the American Joy Gresham. She died early in the marriage and in the film, while taking a vacation during her illness, she brings up her impending death and Jack doesn’t want to spoil the good time talking about that. She tells him that this good time will be part of that terrible grief later, and vice versa. That’s how I try to think about the animals we love in our lives: while you think in the middle of your grief that you can’t bear to even live with and love another animal because the loss hurts so much, how can you say that you would trade even one of the great days you had with your sweet dog, cat, rabbit, etc., to try and “spare” yourself pain when they leave? That seems like a lousy and pre-emptively sad way to live, doesn’t it?<br /><br />So, some of the good:<br /><br />Pooky was so pig-headed that we changed that phrase to “cat-headed” around our house. She was totally unflappable, totally determined, and totally beautiful. We flew home to America when she was three and about six hours into the flight I asked the attendant if I could take her out of her carrier carefully for just a moment to give her some water and a quick little rub-down the attendant said (in French) “Oh, but of course! The poor girl! She must feel so cooped up. Perhaps you should let her roam the plane for a few minutes and she will catch us a mouse!” Yeah, that’s what we all needed on a trans-Atlantic flight—Pooky roaming free to work the crowd!<br /><br />Midgie was a fat, soft little tabby who chattered at you and never gave up reminding you of her toughness by giving you a hiss or a growl as easily as a yawn. She loved to flop over on her side anyplace you wanted to walk and she liked to chew on the leaves of our tomato plants. She also could and did pull glass ornaments off the Christmas tree without breaking and roll them all over the house for laughs.<br /><br />Desi was the puppy-cat who loved nothing more than being with his people. He thought he was one of us and we were one of him and he only had trust and love in his heart. He could have a nutty and run through the house toppling over chairs in his wake and sounding like a 50 pound dog thundering down the hall instead of the 9 pound cat he was, but he was always overflowing with love.<br /><br />We are not ready for another pet to love, but we know we will be one day and we are glad for that. I have never been a person who liked phrases like “fur-babies”, mostly because animals are wonderful just as they are, sometimes more wonderful than people, and it doesn’t up their stock to me to put them in a human context, you know? The differences between a kid/person and a cat/dog are huge and the human animal isn’t always the winner in the comparison!Vicky Politonoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025201337316610324.post-47581684022367679312011-12-07T15:07:37.466-05:002011-12-07T15:07:37.466-05:00Susan, "fur-kids": That's a really ...Susan, "fur-kids": That's a really good way to describe them. Bonnie and Diego are now an integral part of our family and I can't imagine life without them! MaggieMaggie Barbierinoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1025201337316610324.post-45043185842707122812011-12-07T15:05:07.713-05:002011-12-07T15:05:07.713-05:00Maggie, we had dogs and cats while I was growing u...Maggie, we had dogs and cats while I was growing up (including several golden retrievers!). I didn't realize until I was an adult how often animals that I thought "went to live on a farm" because of old age or injuries had to be put to sleep. My mom always had to take them (my dad was no help). Your tale of your mom crying and painting trim sounds very familiar, as a matter of fact. Poor moms! I've lost two cats in my adulthood, one who died in my arms of a blood clot in his lungs at nine and his brother who had to be put to sleep at 10 because his heart was giving out and he couldn't breathe. Argh. It is never easy. But I'm with you: I like to dive back in and rescue more fur-kids that need homes as soon as I can or I'll just wallow in grief. Ed and I have three now, and I don't even want to think of a day when they won't be around. They are a part of our family, and I think I probably love them more than some of my human relatives (okay, I know I do!).Susan McBridehttp://susanmcbride.comnoreply@blogger.com