The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Trivial Pursuits => Wild Card => Topic started by: linnea on August 27, 2006, 01:18:09 am
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AUUUUGH
I am getting new windows installed today in my apartment, which is rad because the building is hella old and water was getting in. The downside is that my cats are fuckin' terrified. I had them locked up in my bedroom, but then they had to replace the window in the bedroom, so they got locked in the bathroom.
I felt terrible because I had to lock them up, and so I went to our summer festival anyway, and worried the entire time. FINALLY I came home and it was literally ninety degrees in the god damned bathroom! Thankfully they have the window mostly installed in the living room, so I just closed my bedroom door and now I'm on my computer in the living room. The boys are cowering beneath the sofa. Scratch that, Milan just came out to check things out.
They both seem okay but now I feel hella terrible. They had food and water and a litterbox in the bathroom. I just gave them "cookies" (kitty vitamins that they go crazy for), and poured a new dish of cold Brita water and put it behind the sofa for Lennybruce. God, I hope that they are okay. I am going to miss out on the rest of the festival so that I can sit here with them and atone for being a bad kittymom. :(
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Pah, so long as you left them some water they should be ok, don't let those damn moggies rule your life.
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Pet owner guilt is the worst kind of guilt. It's the sort of guilt that normal people don't get. They look at you in a way that tells you they think you are weird. This has happened to me more than once.
If it makes you feel any better, I once had an apartment with an enclosed sundeck, and once trapped my cat out there without knowing it because the door had an auto close hinge. The cat used this to his advantage and would always sneek in as the door was self closing, but I usually caught him or realized it right away. There was one time where I left him out there, with no water for at least a day in summer, because he'd gotten out there without me knowing it, then I'd left of work. He just sort of casually came out when I realized and let him in - like nothing happend. The auto- close turned into his enemy later when he was again trying to sneek out on to the deck and it slammed shut on his tail, trapping his tail between the door and frame so badly that I had to open the door for it to get free. He hid for three days straight, and I'd only hear him come out at night for food, water, and litter box. If I got up, he'd hide again. He's a rescue cat, and had been horribly abused before, and it had taken me over six months to get him to trust me, so I felt soo bad. After three days, he came out, but wouldn't let me touch him for a while. Then he sort of forgot, and went back to being his edgy but loving self. He has a perminant kink in his tail now. I'm pretty sure he broke his tail, but was asured by a vet that nothing could be done, and as long as he was not otherwise injured that he'd be fine. I still feel bad about it to this day though.
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Like I've said before, cats are tough! But it's not easy, especially when they give you that look!
And on the bright side, at least you won't have that ghetto plastic sheeting over the windows anymore (and the leaks)! And it's good for the kitties to have their routine "livened up" a little, every once in a while! <grin>
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Sorry about your dog, that's hell of rough.
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My sympathies on your dog, Ash. It's been about a year since my dad took our (very, very old) cat in for her last vet trip, just before I came home for Spring Break; I've always been grateful to him for that, because I don't think I could have dealt with being there with her, as much as I loved her. It's a hard thing to do.
This is why I almost wonder if I'm more cut out to be a small-pet owner than someone with responsibility for a cat or dog. I can deal with the death of small pets much better, since I know they're only going to be around for a few years, but being able to go fifteen or twenty years with an animal and then lose it just seems too crummy sometimes. I don't know.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to crap on a thread about living cats, especially living cats as cute as Lenny and Miwan. I'm sure they'll be just fine, Linnea.
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Damn Ash, that does sound like a tough time. My sympathies.
Also: Heh, Rabbit coroner.
And V, don't worry. My cats are still flaunting the fact that they have me wrapped around their little paws.
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Ash, my sympathies are with you. I rue the day Oscar or Karen must take that last visit.
Chelsea was extremely tough: an English Bulldog, and the runt of the litter, probably outlasted her brothers and sisters at nine and a half years old. She was the missus's daughter, effectively, and I loved her as my own. She had seizures, periodically at first, then constantly at the end, and she was no longer the princess we knew and loved. I regret not holding her during her passage; she would have needed us then.
Ollie was a bitter loss: my favorite friend, my tiny buddy. He was a terrier mix that saw me through middle and high school, sleeping with me every night until I went to college. The folks tried to soften it for me with a farm tale, but I suspect I knew the whole truth from the moment the lie started. Another I didn't hold. I hope I can be forgiven.
I'll make it up with this lot, my pit and my collie. We'll have memories we share and strength heretofore unknown under Death's visage, as long as we're together.
Man, I love my dogs.
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Sorry to hear about your dog Ash, that just sucks.
Bunny coronor though, all tastefully black bunny tail instead of a wreath on the back. All respectfully slow hopping.
I had to bury my Nana's cat last year, I was staying over her place for the night and when we woke up in the morning he was just curled up dead. Little dude was a total moggy and just full of hate (almost took out my dog's eye the first (and only) time they met - she's still got a scar) but was still sad to see him go. Nana thought maybe we should take him to the vet but didn't want the vet to take dispose of him s we decided to violate hell of public health laws (we think anyway) so I skipped uni for the day, dug a hole and just wrapped him up in the blanket he died in (you did not want this blanket anymore at this point) and put him down there. Nana's backyard is basically all clay by the way, fuck*ng cat, figures it'd get one last one over on me.
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Jesus... it's hard not to just read this thread and weep now. When we moved to our new house, I remember telling my SO how this was the retirement house for our cats... that this will be the last house they ever live in after having moved so many times. My cat has moved at least 7 times (5 in my ownership) in his 6 years of life, my SO's two cats have moved 3 times in their 6 years. They've got a nice retirement home in our new house. They all love the carpeted stairs.
Since all three cats are the same age, though they've got a lot of life left, I can imagine some really sad times in our future when they all pass at around the same time. We've been talking about getting a dog at some point, but in a way, it doesn't seem fair to the cats to bring a dog into the picture.