We got her at one of those Petsmart/humane society adoption fairs when I was pregnant with Ben:
She was Jason’s cat and he was such an Apple fanboy even way back then he named her Macintosh. Yes, after his computer.
She had 6 toes on each of her front paws. She sometimes ran outside in the backyard just to eat grass and then would come inside and barf it up on the tile. If we didn’t clean up the puke quick enough we’d find her eating it. She drooled if you petted her long enough. One time she almost scratched Jonas’s eye out, but I’m pretty sure he deserved it. She liked to sleep next to Jason at night.
A couple of weeks ago I caught her sort of sneezing blood droplets and I noticed she had one pupil larger than the other so I took her into the emergency vet. He thought it was just a respiratory infection and put her on antibiotics. She didn’t get better so I took her to our regular vet. He couldn’t find anything either and sent us home with different meds.
Over this last weekend she got worse. More blood, lethargy, trouble breathing. I took her into an internal specialist yesterday still sure there was something they could do. She wasn’t super old. She’d really seemed fine just a few days before.
But it was cancer and there was nothing to be done but sit with her while they administered the meds to put her down. It was maybe the most painful thing I’ve personally witnessed, which I realize means I’ve had a lovely and nearly pain-free life.
I told the kids after I’d picked them all up from school. The vet had sweetly asked about my children and if I’d ever had to do something like this before. She’d warned me from her perspective as a pet-owner and parent, they would all handle it differently. She was so right.
The little boys were fine. I thought Gray, my sensitive, prone to tears 8 year old, would be devastated, but he was OK (Does this mean we’re getting a kitten for Christmas?). Jonas didn’t totally get it (Did she die in real life?). Ben is heartbroken, though. He’s home with me today because he spent most of the night crying and was afraid he’d go to school and cry in front of his friends. I feel like that might be sort of humiliating for a 7th grade boy.
She was a sweet cat, a member of our family for longer than our children and we’ll miss her. But we’re glad we got to have her as long as we did.
I’ll try to be more entertaining in my next post. But just to tide you over, I watch this video and it makes me understand why I am a cat person. I like my animals subversive and strange, just like I like my people: