Hiya, y’all! If you’re in the USA, I hope your Memorial Day Weekend is wonderful and safe – and please don’t forget that this isn’t “National Barbeque Day”, but a day to remember those men and women who were killed in the line of duty serving in our military.
On that note – don’t be reckless and become just a memory to your friends and family, either!
What am I doing for the weekend? Nothing much, really! Reading, playing some video games online, and hopefully getting a YouTube video up. Oh, and playing with an adorable kitten named Valla.
On March 18, I noticed one of my cat’s hind legs was swollen. She didn’t seem to be in any pain or anything, but I was concerned because I didn’t know if she’d hurt herself somehow, or if it was a sign of bad circulation or something. By the time Hims got home from work about six hours later, the leg was noticeably swollen, but she was still seeming to run around just fine. Over the weekend, her other leg began to swell, and she wasn’t using the bathroom like she normally would. He had to work well into the night on Monday, so he took off Tuesday and we made an appointment at the vet for that morning. We thought she was actually just constipated, since she seemed to still be acting fine otherwise. But over Monday the swelling had spread to her hips and she was beginning to sort of hop along instead of walk, as though she couldn’t stand too well on her hind legs. I spent the night on the floor downstairs with her until Hims got home around 3am. Then I went upstairs and he spent hours with her downstairs, too. Still, we figured she was constipated, and that the vet would give her a laxative or an enema or something, and she’d be fine.
It turns out she was in the final stages of liver disease as well as a couple other things I honestly don’t remember now. I know she was 19, and that’s very old for even an indoor cat. Still, I was just devastated. The new vet (who is the most wonderful vet I have ever dealt with!) looked near to tears herself as she told up that Poos had perhaps a couple days left. Right now she probably just felt like we do when we have a horrible case of the flu, but that it would get worse and she would be in a lot of pain later on. So yes…. the hardest thing ever – we took her home for a few hours, during which we could see her condition just getting worse. Even Dexter was acting worried and tiptoeing around like he was afraid to upset everyone. At one point I looked in the downstairs bathroom where the kitty box is, and Dexter was busy trying to cover a puddle of pee on the floor. He heard me and looked over his shoulder, and I swear his expression was confused worry, like “This isn’t right. This isn’t supposed to be here. Why did she do this here and not in the box?”
I think she knew the night before that she was leaving. I woke up at one point and looked up to see her sitting over me, watching me. We’d always sort of “known” what the other was thinking, and she seemed to be thinking that she knew it was time, and she was more concerned over how I would manage on my own without being a human to a cat.
Fast forward to last Friday, May 20. Hims and I had gone to this “cat boutique” in the mall quite a few times, looking for a little yellow kitten for me. All the yellow kitties were male, though. In fact, most of the kitties were male, and quite a few were tuxedo cats like Dexter! But Friday we went in to see two eight week old kittens who had just arrived that morning: a gray-black boy and a tortoiseshell girl. Normally I wouldn’t have gone for a tortie, just because I prefer Siamese and Marmalades. But then there was Ivy.
Their cage was in the back, near the play room. As I walked up, the tortie stopped playing around in the cage and ran up to the door, looking right up at me. And I wasn’t the only person around – there were three or four other people right there, too. I said that I’d like to take Ivy into the play room, which is where prospective kitty parents see if the kitty likes them or not. (Sometimes they won’t have a thing to do with you, because you are not their human!) As soon as I was handed the kitten, she started to purr. She snuggled up next to my face and kept purring. And purring. Hims came in and she looked him over, yawned, and purred some more. She snugged up to Hims when he held her, too. And purred.
We wanted to wait a bit before deciding, so we went home, only to return the next day to see if she was acting the same way with us. She sure did! She wasn’t sleepy or anything, but was happy to be held and petted and talked to. And she came home with us that afternoon.
A week later, and she still starts purring when she sees me. She hears me walk in the room and she comes out from wherever she’s ensconced herself and runs up to me to rub against my ankles. Dexter, after a few days of “the hell is this?” when looking at her, and hissing at her – and her hissing right back at him! – has finally really started playing with her. He’s very gentle with her, though, which is good as he is about five times her size. Just this evening, he jumped on the bed while we were watching television and began licking her head and her side. Yessss!
So we now have Ivy, though her name has been added to. The day we got her, Hims was talking to her while I held her. Her face was turned from him, watching people out the windows. “So, would you like to come home with us, Ivy? Hmmm? Would you like to come home and watch some Stargate with us? Watch some Sam? Watch some Valla?” The second he said “Valla”, she whipped her head around to look straight at him. The two of us burst out laughing, and knew we had to call her that. So she was renamed Valla Ivy Maldoran.
So that is what’s been happening these past couple months, at least in one segment of my life. How fun is that? And hey – Adopt a shelter pet! 🙂