Puddy's results.
I got the result of puddy's biopsy, and as I suspected it's not good news. The tumours she had removed are malignant and will most likely grow back or spread elsewhere. My vet and I agree that with such a poor prognosis cutting her ears off to prolong the inevitable would be a cruel and rather pointless choice. So, when her funnel come off next Friday, I'm going to spoil that cat stupid, well spoil her more since she lives rather a lazy life already. And until I see any sign that she is in distress she can snooze and scoff and be rubbed to her heart's contentment.
Even though I had already guessed this would be the outcome I am very upset. I can't stop bursting into tears. I feel slightly stupid, but I can't help it. I burst into tears today in a restaurant because one of the Italians asked how she was.
I know some of you non-animal folk might not get it, but I've had puddy fifteen years, that's fifteen years of companionship. I've cried into puddy's fur over boyfriends, I've ranted to puddy about work/friends/family and puddy would cheep and purr and kneed in total agreement.
I told her today I'd look after her, after I'd read the results. She sat on my lap, with that stupid funnel on her head, and purred and cooed at me while I dribbled snot and tears on her. She has absolute faith in me. .
I got Puddy from a mad woman called Ginch. She came down to where I was working, with puddy in a restaurant sized mayonnaise bucket, with holes punched in the top for air. She asked me did I want a cat. I opened it up and there she was, a black and white ball of fuzz, only a few weeks old, scared senseless. It was love at first sight-that and I wasn't sure what Ginch would have done if I hadn't said yes.
When she was younger she used to stalk my friends when they came over to my old place, and Country Gay was pounced on on more than on ocassion. I used to roar laughing as he shrieked in terror. She never hurt him, but it was a great game for a while.
She's lived with me abroad and here, houses and apartments and never cared where we were as long as she knew I was with her. She has her first litter of kittens all those years ago in the shoe closet of my bedroom, I used to cart her to the vets back in the day in a record box, while she yowled the place down. She was thinner then and actually managed to get out through a hole in the corner of it one time.
Her favourite thing in the world is turkey. She is the only one that knows how to ask for food. The smaller of the cats has never mastered it, and the bigger of them doesn't really care if he gets fed or not. The small one usually waits with her while she does all the work, and then they run to feed bowl side by side like huskies once I've worked out what all the meowing and cheeping is over. I don't know what he's going to do without her since he only goes around in circles silently, expecting me to understand this means 'get the food woman' (I do get it, but I can ignore silent circles, Puddy would actually drive you nuts if you don't feed her on time)
I have to fucking travel tomorrow for work and I will be away all week, Etheline, who I give out and complain about so much is going to stay here and mind puddy and bring her to the vets next Friday to get her stitches out.
I think I've changed my mind about getting any more pets, including a French bulldog. Getting so unbearably attached to something that cannot live as long as me does not strike me as a good thing.
Anyhoo, sorry for the eulogy-esque piece. But some times it's just easier to write than to speak, and you lot can't see the state of me. Believe me it ain't pretty.
Have a good weekend y'all, catch you when I'm back.
Even though I had already guessed this would be the outcome I am very upset. I can't stop bursting into tears. I feel slightly stupid, but I can't help it. I burst into tears today in a restaurant because one of the Italians asked how she was.
I know some of you non-animal folk might not get it, but I've had puddy fifteen years, that's fifteen years of companionship. I've cried into puddy's fur over boyfriends, I've ranted to puddy about work/friends/family and puddy would cheep and purr and kneed in total agreement.
I told her today I'd look after her, after I'd read the results. She sat on my lap, with that stupid funnel on her head, and purred and cooed at me while I dribbled snot and tears on her. She has absolute faith in me. .
I got Puddy from a mad woman called Ginch. She came down to where I was working, with puddy in a restaurant sized mayonnaise bucket, with holes punched in the top for air. She asked me did I want a cat. I opened it up and there she was, a black and white ball of fuzz, only a few weeks old, scared senseless. It was love at first sight-that and I wasn't sure what Ginch would have done if I hadn't said yes.
When she was younger she used to stalk my friends when they came over to my old place, and Country Gay was pounced on on more than on ocassion. I used to roar laughing as he shrieked in terror. She never hurt him, but it was a great game for a while.
She's lived with me abroad and here, houses and apartments and never cared where we were as long as she knew I was with her. She has her first litter of kittens all those years ago in the shoe closet of my bedroom, I used to cart her to the vets back in the day in a record box, while she yowled the place down. She was thinner then and actually managed to get out through a hole in the corner of it one time.
Her favourite thing in the world is turkey. She is the only one that knows how to ask for food. The smaller of the cats has never mastered it, and the bigger of them doesn't really care if he gets fed or not. The small one usually waits with her while she does all the work, and then they run to feed bowl side by side like huskies once I've worked out what all the meowing and cheeping is over. I don't know what he's going to do without her since he only goes around in circles silently, expecting me to understand this means 'get the food woman' (I do get it, but I can ignore silent circles, Puddy would actually drive you nuts if you don't feed her on time)
I have to fucking travel tomorrow for work and I will be away all week, Etheline, who I give out and complain about so much is going to stay here and mind puddy and bring her to the vets next Friday to get her stitches out.
I think I've changed my mind about getting any more pets, including a French bulldog. Getting so unbearably attached to something that cannot live as long as me does not strike me as a good thing.
Anyhoo, sorry for the eulogy-esque piece. But some times it's just easier to write than to speak, and you lot can't see the state of me. Believe me it ain't pretty.
Have a good weekend y'all, catch you when I'm back.
posted by fatmammycat at 1:59 p.m.
8 Comments:
I have 2 cats and a dog, I understand and sympathise sweetheart. 1 of my cats was in intensive care a few years ago to the tune of $3k I kid you not, we call him the million dollar cat now, he's insured now, yes, that's right, all of the animals have health insurance, how very American of me, but I'm damned if I will pay $3k again. Hope Puddy and you manage, she'll know herself you know, they know way more than we do, let her lead you.
I'm sorry, fmc. I hope puddy's last days are as comfy and happy as possible.
Oh, honey. So sorry to hear this.
Spoil that kitty rotten for the rest of her time with you.
But listen, you've given Puddy a great life, and the best care, and when her time comes, you will give her a dignified end. That's the best we can do for our pets. It's a sad fact that we DO outlive them, and we have to make these awful decisions, but I've had pets all my life, and though it never gets any easier when the time comes, it does get easier to know you've done the best for the puddies.
I've euthanized more cats than most people, just because I tend to adopt strays that come with all kinds of health problems. I cry for a few days, miss them terribly for a bit...And then I go out and get another cat to spoil for as long as I have it.
puddy has abs faith in you for a good reason, FMC: as andraste noted, thanks to you she's had a happy, long life -- one outside a mayonnaise bucket.
certainly it's painful to think of losing her... but surely the comfort & companionship she's given you for 15 years is worth it?
i'm so sorry ms cat. i hope the paramour does something nice for you tonight.
Me wish there was words that could help you right now FMC, but truth am, there am not. You am going through such a hardship and those of us who have been through similar understand completely. We am here to listen to anything and everything you want/need to say about you puddy. Talking bout them am one way we honor them and memories of them.
Like, did me ever mention me taught me kitty to shake paws? She got real good at it too! But me guess from her point of view it was more like me being graced with the offering of her paw when me begged.
Losing them am a hard thing to deal with, but in the end, you get to keep all the love.
I had a colleague staying the night after a party - as I was making her a coffee next day, she was looking out my window and said "what is that white thing sticking out under that shrub"..it was my pet rabbit, savaged by a fox, cold and stiff as a board! I cried and cried, and she laughed as she thought I was silly and immature for crying over a rabbit.
sounds like i should heat up the naan bread and chilli sauce
Thanks y'all.
Shebah your colleague sounds like a heartless twat.
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