Wednesday, December 23, 2015

I am a bad blogger...

I has been a long time since I last blogged.  All is well...sort of.

About two weeks ago, my aunt decided that Fonda and I were unacceptable people to know.  We have been unfriended and blocked by her on Facebook...stupid.  I have returned the favor, and I have also had to unfriend her awesome husband because she hacked into his account and continued her vitriol.  What a waste...I had just recently (from her) found out that her dad (my grandfather) had served in the military. He died when I was around 10(?) and I never knew that.  Now I am unlikely to get that information. 

Two days later, we had to euthanize Webster a week and an half ago.  He had chronic renal failure.  Everyone wanted us to support him with subQ fluids...It was one of the hardest decisions to make to not do that.  He was a very active kitty that didn't like to be held and he would not have put up with sitting still (being held still) for 5-10 minutes, even if it was better for him.  Everyone we talked to said "he would get used to it."  We decided that if he was willing to put up with that, then he was too far gone for it.  We are pretty sure he didn't know he was sick until last-week Tuesday.  I am 100% grateful to my sister, Meg (she is a registered vet-tech) who talked to us plainly about getting a plan together so it would not be an emergency for all of us.  With Meg's encouragement, we made a plan with our vet that we hoped to not use.  It turns out that our vet makes house calls for euthanasia. 

He liked to "help" with things like quilting...

He and Fonda would have long conversations...this photo taken March, 2009. He was about 10.
When I got up our normal routine was for him to come and get a drink at the sink while I did my morning things...he didn't come to the sink.  I did find him trying to hide under a shelf that we had set up in the craft room.  I was worried, but he seemed OK a bit later, napping on the sofa.  When I called later, Fonda said he was (still?) napping on the sofa in the living room, like normal.  I was still worried, and when I got home from work he came to do his normal routine and get a drink from the sink, but he couldn't figure it out.  He put his head into the stream of water that he normally would drink from.  He just couldn't get it.  He tried to drink from the pool in the sink. He tried a variety of ways...I started crying and told Fonda that I thought it was time...she came in and saw what I meant.

Such the regal boy, even near the end.

Thanks to Meg, we were able to call the vet and implement our (dreaded) plan.  The vet and one assistant came to our house and were very respectful and kind. We were able to hold him and Franklynn came up and hung out with us for a little while, purring up a storm.  It was all very kind and very sad.  I found the girls (except Spot, who thinks she is an only-cat, and was hiding behind the sofa, anyway) and just brought them to him and then let them go.  They both sniffed him and then left.  I am sure it was harder on us then them.

Always curious...

He came back to us on Friday in a plain and simple box, with his name engraved on it.  The vet also made a plaster-of-Paris imprint of his front paws and wrote his name...they shaved some fur and cut some whiskers for us.  The crematory sent the Rainbow Bridge poem with an inking of his paw.  It was all very nice.  He is currently sitting on the craft table waiting for us to do something...I have no idea what. He was a very patient boy when he wanted to be - ha, ha!

With is butterfly on his head...
And his angel on his back...the "body" on his left side, head near his head, with hands clasped and the "wing" on his right side, spanning his whole sweetness.


He is missed by all of us here, and the other kitties have been coming around for more pats, and just generally checking in with us more.  It is really kinda quiet since he died...I am 99% sure he was deaf and had been for a few months - he would stand right next to us and yell in our ears and he hasn't been afraid of the vacuum for a few months, and has not responded to us calling for him, but that is not 100% out of the norm for any cat.
He will be missed...sweet boy.
RIP Webster

1 comment:

rush said...

Webster
Websteronios
Webster
Full of bonios
Webster
Callin' his cronios
on the telephonios...

Yes, our cats have theme songs, and this was Websters.

We had a certain way we called him. I miss doing that. He would come loping along anxious to see why he was called. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed (Well, as bushy as an American SHORTHAIR can get!).

Love that little sweet guy. It's been so quiet without him. We've had him and his biological sister, Wren, since they were wee kittens.

There's a big hole in my heart.

the fish girl

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Leland, North Carolina, United States