PeTA vs. Steve Irwin

Originally written on September 13, 2006

I was watching the news about Steve Irwin and how there's a possibility of revenge against stingrays as one killed him with their barb piercing to his heart (very sad indeed, but for the stingray, I believe it was their self-defense) and Peta found a new way to piss me off. Usually I don't really care too much- I'm glad that there's a charity to defend Animal rights; I don't like cruelty to animals either...anyway, I sent Peta a little email:
I saw in one of the newscast about Steve Irwin and about how Peta doesn't approve of his shows and believes that it's danger to the kids. Obviously you don't do much digging in your research. If you have noticed at all photos and footage of Steve and Terri Irwin's zoo of how little kids are placing flowers then you will see that they don't have any fright. Of "provoking" an animal, such as a crocodile- let me ask you something: without Steve's abilities and if he wasn't ever on the air, then how would we know how to defend ourselves? Do you know? Have you ever faced that for yourselves? Maybe you missed the news that in Florida, three women were killed by alligators. Steve didn't harm the animal, he never killed any of them- in fact it upset him to know that they were killed to make belts and shoes- you should give him that credit. Of course, I'm not surprised either of the fact he died by an animal (I am more surprised that it wasn't a crocodile). I thought Steve's documentaries were very educational, especially as I live near the Everglades and lakes were alligators and crocidiles are known to swim around.
That's about that for Steve Irwin. Sure he was over-the-top enthusiastic, but my golly, he was interesting to watch. I think that attitude had people watch him in amazement and like him. I confess, I didn't really watch the show religiously because I was either watching something else or doing something else or didn't know it's schedule was. I suppose I can say the same thing about John Ritter: know who he was, liked him, but wasn't into him as a faithful viewer. My heart goes out to Terri, Bindi, and Bob.

Now Peta...like I said, I'm glad that there's a group to speak for the animals but they have done things that I thought of were too far. I don't appreciate them forcing videos or whatever it is up the noses. Fine, voice your disapprovements, have a conversation with the person who you are up against but that should be it. At least the person would know that there's another option. You can't force someone not to wear fur or be a vegetarian. Let it be THEIR decision. I'm not a vegetarian- I do eat meat as I do eat my fruits and vegetables, if I want to be a vegetarian, then I will be on my own time and my own decision, nobody else's. That's the way it should be.

Another thing that had me pissed off about Peta- they had plans to make cats vegetarians. As a cat owner of two, here's a news flash you CAN'T get cats to be a vegetarian!!!! You can change a dog's diet easy, but cats are way too stubborn, that's for sure. What if you did think you succeeded? But then you let your cat go outside- guess what the cat's going to do? Chase a lizard, play with it, eat the insides of it. I should know- I have found enough dead lizards. You can't change that ever- no matter how hard you try, no matter where you start them as a baby kitten, they are bound to find an insect or a mouse and use them as their food source.

Santa Claws & Rico

Originally written on August 24, 2011

About two weeks after Snowball's disappearance, my Mom and I decided to adopt two new cats from the animal shelter. Some time ago we even thought of one day to promise to adopt an adult cat because they need homes too. You would always hear the sad story of adults being harder to adopt compared to kittens/puppies. I didn't want to be one of those people, especially know that after a short while, those adults would be put down to sleep all because no one wants to take them home, despite being healthy or home-trained. Once the decision was made, mom and I went to the animal shelter and we checked out all the cats...and I even found an all white one that looked just like Snowball...only except the cat was named Blizzard and it was a HE! Nope, not her. The heart sank because I was also on a lookout for her in case someone thought to bring her in. We've decided on a kitten and an adult cat so we looked and looked- first was the kitten. There were a few potentials and I was looking at the top cages, oohing and awwing, but I kept feeling this paw holding on to my hand and licking it! I looked down and there were a few more kittens in the bottom cage, wanting my attention. This one cat just kept licking me, holding on to my hand and already I was bitten by the love bug...but I had more cats to look at and I didn't want to make that final decision just yet. I checked his collar for his ID number, making a mental note. We looked at more cats, adults as well, until Mom stopped dead in her tracks staring into an adult cat's face- it looked just like her own childhood cat Misty with the same colorings. Mom was bitten by the love bug. We took note of the adult cat's ID and brought it to the people who then had us wait (ugh!) for a good hour or so while they dealt with other costumers before us and then eventually taking our two new cats to have them checked out, be given a little chip to ID them in case anybody brought them in as missing. We already knew what their names will be. Mom really liked the name Santa Claws as a play of Santa Claus, she thought it was cute and it was in her mind for quite some time so the name was set. I picked Rico after Penquins of Madagascar because he was my favorite penquin. Rico the Penquin didn't talk much (he couldn't really, only can make out a word or two but other than that it's rambling) plus he also stores all the Penquins' needs for their adventures or everyday use in his stomach- he would barf it up for anyone who needed something.

Santa Claws was two, she turned 3 in June, the same month we adopted her and Rico. Rico was 2 months old when we adopted him and was a stray, his original name was Champ, probably given by the animal shelter. Santa Claws, her orignial name was Spice and that's the name she will never be called, probably stirs up bad memories for her. We discovered by just feeling her body alone that she had been through hell with her previous owners. Her skin under the fur feels like it's been through the ringer with bumps and whiplashes. One time I was rubbing her tummy and her ribs felt weird, not like what ribs should feel like. I had Ingrid feel them and with her knowledge of these kinds of things as well as owning a past-abused dog herself, she knew that Santa's ribs were self-healed. My mom even noticed that Santa's tail is not quite right- probably been stepped on and I don't mind by accidental purposes. That first week we got her, I innocently walked into the bathroom and found Santa in the bathroom's sink which I thought was so cute! But I saw the look in her eyes and I have never seen that look before in a cat's eyes- her pupils, instead of being oval with sharp pointed ends, they were circles. I've learned that their eyes get like that when they get TERRIFIED. She was TERRIFIED...but I comforted her, she had no reason to feel terrified, she's in a good home. It took a good two weeks before she started to venture out of Mom's closet more to explore. Now, it's been two months later and there's such a big change in Santa. I think she now knows that she's in a good home and she's here to stay. Santa did take me and Ingrid in but was wary with my mom; we all assumed that it could be because of the previous owner...Mom thinks it's because of her dark hair but I think that's not the case: I have dark hair and Santa is fine with me. I think, and Ingrid thinks this as well, that Santa was afraid of Mom due to Mom's overweight gain. I think the previous owner was an overweight person so Santa's afraid. But these days, and I'm glad to say, Santa has been warming up to my mother. Ironically, Santa does love Mom's room a lot- she's in there a lot of times- she'll visit my room and hang out for a while but a good 80% of the time she would be found in mom's room! I believe that by Christmas time of this year, Santa will be my Mom's best friend, glue to her hip.

Rico is a great little guy but he can be, pardon my french, a little shit. Quite a number of times he has peed in my beanbag- not happy about that and I had to shove that thing into the washing machine! Now I cover my beanbag with throw pillows to keep him from using it as his own little litter box. He has also peed in my clean clothes in the laundry basket that were waiting for me to put away (you can blame my procastination on that one) but it really upset me because he was a type of cat that would use the laundry basket full of clothes as a sleeping bed, not a litter box! (Snowball used to use the laundry as a bed, Missy occasionally too) So I had to redo my clothes, not once but twice! At different times of course...Rico also can poop out some real good stinkers. My girls (Snowball, Missy, and Santa Claws) have done stinkers before that would drift to a room, but Rico's, oh man, that can cover the WHOLE HOUSE!!!! I'm not kidding! So whenever he does his business, one of us would be sure to quickly go in there to cover it with baking soda to kill the smell. How can such a little thing can creat such a BIG smell? That baffles me! Harri LOVES Rico, I think Harri thinks of Rico as HIS kitten, we even went as far as saying that Harri is Rico's father- Harri has been known to give Rico the "I" tooth to keep him in line, to behave himself whenever Rico gets really hyper and doesn't know when to quit it. They also have slept together, even cuddled a few times! Wow. Harri also lets Rico get away with murder when it comes to attacking his tail or his nose or whatever, but I do believe that Harri knows that Rico is very young and means no harm but he does get carried away. Harri is also very protective of Rico- whenever he sees Santa lurking by, he's quick to stand by his little buddy.

But I love my little boy and I love my little girl. Sure they are not Snowball but I do see Snowball, and Missy, in their characters. I think of Rico as Snowball, Jr. most of all while Santa reminds me a lot of Missy but with a little Snowball thrown in. But most important, both Santa and Rico are themselves, they are their own person in fur coats.

My First Cat: Snowball

Originally written on August 24, 2011

On May 23, 2011, it was overall a normal day- a day that I don't remember at all because it was just so ordinary...until that evening, I can only remember one final minute with my 16 year old cat Snowball. She wanted to go outside, she was demanding it, she was trying to lead me to the door. I thought she wanted to go in the backyard that is fenced in. I opened the sliding glass door, she peered out but nope, that's not where she wanted to go. Snowball then lead me to the front door; my mom and our roommate were both watching TV and I was getting dinner ready. I opened the front door and off she went. I continued on with my cooking, unaware that that would be the last time I would ever see my cat. I pretty much forgotten that Snowball was outside as the evening continued, I supposed I assumed that my mom or roomie would let her back in since I did tell them "Snowball's outside" and they did saw me open the door for her. So I went to bed...until I jolted awake "Is Snowball inside???" I checked around the house as quietly as I could but nothing. She must have been still outside, waiting to come inside and prepare myself for a bitch-out- I swing open the door...no cat. Snowball? I got my shoes and from then on, I searched my entire community looking for my cat, quietly calling her name because I didn't want to wake anyone up. But at that moment I wasn't really worried- this has happened before and she always came home. After I covered the gated neighborhood I figured she was really mad at me and refused to come in for not letting her in or something. I couldn't go back to sleep though so I figured I would wait a while and hope to hear her cry, even opening the window a smidge so I can hear her cries. When my mom woke up, I told her that Snowball's still outside and hasn't come home yet- I went to bed while my mom took over the waiting. She even left the front door open so that Snowball can just walk in. Roomie woke up around late morning to take her dog, Harri, out to pee but he ran out the front door; Mom was outside talking to a neighbor and Roomie chased after him. I heard the commotion and went outside, telling Roomie that Snowball's missing. We both started searching right there, calling for her name. Nothing.

For the next 3 days we searched the neighborhood, expanding to the whole area basically. I even made flyers, asked dog walkers and people coming home from work. We used Harri to help with our search, using Snowball's little fur-ball that I saved after brushing her fur one day and he pulled us in all kinds of directions. We kept our windows cracked open just in case she came home and cried. Every hour or so, one of us would venture out of the house to look around for another check in case we would see Snowball casually walking on the sidewalk from her adventure. I had vivid dreams, even daydreams, of finding Snowball and holding her in my arms, so vivid that I could actually feel her...but then I would wake up holding my pillow tightly to my chest. I never have felt my bed feel so empty before in my life. I was so worried, so scared, so many 'What If's' were circling in my head
What if someone took her?
What if that someone is taking care of her?
What if that someone is abusing her?
Snowball can be very feisty and one may not know how to handle, or their own mood swings so What if they were scaring her so they can control her?
What if a big animal- say a dog- managed to get a hold of her and killed her?
What if a possum or a raccoon managed to get her?
Snowball was 16 years old, she may have been feisty and would get into a fight to protect her home as well as herself but she was also getting up there, her reflexes weren't really as quick as they once were but she was still sharp as a tact
What if she felt so left out in our family (which is completely UNtrue) that she decided to leave us?
What if she walked away to die?
Snowball did have a tumor in her stomach area, but we had it tested and it was beign...but it grew...but we thought it was just those fatty tumors...but what if it became a REAL tumor that got fatal? That last week I had with her, I discovered a small circle patch of fur missing at her hind leg that was dark pink and had puss on it...What if that killed her? On May 24th, I had planned to call the vet about that tumor to have it taken out.
What if Snowball knew of my plans and decided to make her grand escape so she wouldn't go to the vet?
What if Snowball knew that this was it and went away to die?
What if someone took her and killed her?
What if someone took her and she died on her own?
Bottom line is: I wanted her home, dead or alive
Eventually we all came to the conclusion that Snowball did indeed went away to die.
I had a weird experience not long after that. One day I went outside to get something from my car and was greeted by a ghastly smell- the smell of a dead animal. I know that smell anywhere since I've seen roadkill and you can just never forget that kind of smell. It's sick. I was also on alert for that smell because I was hoping that maybe, just maybe, it would lead me to my cat. Well anyway, that fleeting idea came to my head and I started to follow it and nothing. Now, that dead animal smell is very lingering, it can drift for a good length. Hmm okay not walking forward is where the smell is so I went back to my front door where I originally first smelled the smell- maybe it was in a backyard- even a neighbor's- but that's where the weird part comes in: I couldn't smell that smell anymore. I went back and forth, there was no way in hell I could've lost that smell! But it seemed like I did and I went back in my house baffled. I didn't even get whatever it was out of my car because it wasn't important anymore. Maybe it was my sign that Snowball's dead? I had been begging for a sign from God, from Snowball herself, from Missy, from my Grandmother, to just give me a sign- it could be in my dream, it could be a chopped paw in a package demanding ransom- I would've taken anything to know what happened to my cat. I still do.

I do know that it's a natural thing for a cat or a dog to do when they are dying. Probably more so so that we wouldn't have to see them in pain, in suffering, dying. I do believe, always, that Snowball loved me to death. She was my companion, my best friend, my confident, my second mother who told me what to do "feed me, let me outside, clean my litter box, pet me, play with me", my sister, heck I've even joked that she was my wife! I've never encountered a cat like her- if I came home really late (or anybody like my mom and Roomie), she would be right there giving you an earful "where were you? Do you have any idea what time it is??", she would also talk to you, she would also greet you when you come home and Snowball would always expect a greeting back- "Hi Snowball!". She had such a sense of humor, she played pranks, she was also very smart. I believe she would have been a great mother if we'd allowed her to breed (which we didn't, she got fixed). Although it was Snowball's House, I know that she did love Missy and she did love Harri. Snowball did witness Mom and me taking care of Missy when she was ill/dying so perhaps that made her decide to leave us behind. In March, she got sick (too much calcium) and when Snowball got better, her attitude towards Roomie had change a lot- they became late night walking companions, Snowball let her pet her more, she even started to play with her more with her favorite toy (the gold string) and tapping between the stairs' rails. Before the illness, Snowball was pretty wary of Roomie, playing nasty tricks on her or not letting her go up the stairs to the point when Roomie would yell out either my name or Mom's to help her get Snowball out of the way to let her and Harri pass. But Roomie loved her at first sight- they were actually a lot alike in many ways to the point where my mom and I said that Snowball was Roomie in a white fur coat.

I think the hardest part in all this is that I never actually got to say goodbye to Snowball. I got to say goodbye to Missy- and yes it was hard- but I wanted Missy to see me and Mom as the last people she saw before she died giving her some sort of comfort and I always thought Snowball would've gotten the same thing. But at least with Missy I got closure, I also have her little urn. With Snowball, I didn't get closure and I don't have any of her remains other than her little furball that I combed out of her one evening, never thinking that it would one day come in handy and special to me. I will never know what happened to Snowball. Although I do believe she has passed on, there's a tiny little hope in me that keeps my eyes peeled whenever I'm out and about, looking for a white cat. I look at roadkill more closely, wondering "is that my cat?" and then feel my heart torn apart of relief and disappointment when I find out it's not. I do know that in heaven we will be reunitied...but it would be nice to know where her remains are resting at...

My Sweet Kitty Missy

Originally written on July 3, 2009

I’m sure it does sound weird to do, it’s hardly anything I’ve really seen before, a blog about a pet but I feel like I should do this. I did this for my Grandmother and now for a cat. Maybe I am nuts, but you can ask anybody who I regularly talked to and guarantee that they will all state that I have spoken very much about Snowball and Missy. Talk to me regularly and you would get some cat stories. So, it does make sense that I would post something like this. Missy is my first pet death. I’ve known other pets who have passed on and of course my condolences but this one really hit home. I got her ashes back from the Vet on July 2, it was very bittersweet. However she’s home and I decided to just do this and get it over with. I did intend to write this tribute blog up but the procrastination was getting the best of me and getting her urn home boosted me up to do this. So here it goes…

Missy came to my life in October of 2000 when she was about 5 months old (calculated that she was born in May of that year). My Mom and I just moved into a new house and already had then 5-year old Snowball; we had been thinking of getting a new cat and even looked around but decided not to when Snowball would go ballistic when she would see another cat around her house. One day at my Mom’s work, a co-worker was telling my Mom about a neighbor who just got a new kitten for his daughter but it turns out that she’s allergic to cats and was looking for a home for her before deciding to take her back to the animal shelter where they got her. She explained to my Mom that this little kitten had been abandoned by her mother, was rescued by the animal shelter. My Mom got suckered in and agreed to give the little kitten a home. She called me up to let me know that we will be getting another cat that same night. Sure enough, Missy arrived. That kitten had the biggest fluffy tail I have ever seen! Big tail, little kitten. She was too cute. Mom and I welcomed her with arms, holding her, letting her know us and then let her explore her new home…until Snowball, who had seen Missy at the door with her previous owner and co-worker, realized that she was not going away. Thus started the three months of growl hiss growl hiss growl…I was already in love with Missy to have second thoughts of the mistake that Snowball was making it out to be (my mom did have second thoughts however but it quietly vanished as she too was already in love). Eventually in time Snowball realized that Missy was NOT going anywhere no matter how much she protested and the growling & hissing wore off. Missy held her own with Snowball, she even freaked her out by one time when she leaped over Snowball with a jump. Oh man could Missy jump! I think she could have been a frog in another life. You should have seen Snowball’s look on her face when Missy leaped over her…it was classic. Probably helped deemed Missy getting some type of respect for her. Whenever there was a lizard high up on the sliding glass door, Missy would jump a good 10 feet trying to get that lizard! I kept hearing this commotion and turned to see a little tiny kitten trying to get this lizard that was very high up there that a 5 foot 8 ½ inch me couldn’t reach! I was impressed. Snowball never did that.

Over time I think Snowball really did like having Missy around…she was the big sister. She could pretty much boss the poor little thing around! She had someone to play with, to have company whenever Mom and I went out somewhere, not to feel alone. One time while I was away in college in ....Tampa...., Snowball went missing for three days and when she returned, she was so happy to be home, she even rubbed Missy! Whoa! I remember another time in my room on my window sill both cats were on it and they started to sniff each other, Snowball reached out to Missy and then licked her head! I think my eyes were so wide that my eyeballs could have fallen out! It was a lovely moment.

The funny ongoing thing with Snowball and Missy was whenever Missy went to the bathroom (litter), you’ll see Snowball sneaking up, spying on her to scare her! Like a sister would…I’m going to miss watching that! It was funny.

Missy was the sweetest and loving cat I’ve ever encountered. She never meant to hurt you. If you were wearing a sleeveless shirt, her claws wouldn’t be out while holding her…if you were wearing a shirt then you would feel her claws but it was to hold on to you. Missy would also nudge your hand so that you would know she wanted to be petted. She would meow in a question before she jumped on the bed…both Mom and I fell into habit of meowing in response to acknowledge her, then she would jump up for a love-fest. She was more of a lap cat then Snowball is. Snowball would be close to you, next to you, be on your lap for a few minutes at a time before she had enough. Missy would be on your lap for a good quality of time. Of course my favorite moments with Missy would be when going to sleep: a few times she fell asleep with her head resting on my hand. Awww…Other then the thought of her being a frog in another life, I think she was a nurse in another life as well. Whenever Mom or I was sick, would wake up from a groggy sleep to find Missy there, looking at us as if she was watching over us, meowing in greeting. Of course she didn’t make us take our medicine or anything but it felt like she was taking care of us. She brought this comforting, nurturing aura to her. Snowball would do what she would always do but Missy would just be there.

Missy had this cutest little growl. Snowball has a real growl, very threatening, you know she means business! I know Missy felt the same way “I mean business!” but in truth, it was not threatening at all! It was so cute. In truth, my Mom or I would get her angry just to hear that growl. She never hissed or swiped as Snowball would be doing but she was a good wiggler. She can twist, turn to get her away from our grip. Plus she could also run very fast. I’ve constantly referred her as Speedy Gonzalez or Road Runner from Looney Tunes. She was also a very good hider- she had me stumped a few times! Clever little thing. She even found a hiding place under my Mom’s TV armour where she would hide from us as well as using it to play with Snowball. You would see her little paws sticking out for Snowball to bait around! But then she got bigger and could no longer fit there but no matter- cats are bound to find other hiding places.

I do regret one thing: I regret not playing with her as often as I have done with Snowball when she was a kitten. Snowball was at the point where she got more interested in laying about that playing got far and few between. Poor Missy came about at that point. Sure we did try to play with her but it was far and few between and it got into her own habit too. I did try to play with her though, but not as much as I had done with Snowball.

This year, about a week after Mother’s day and after I got a new car, I realized that I haven’t really seen Missy all that much. It wasn’t very unusual that she would hide around but I did not really see her at all, making much appearances. I found her in my Mom’s closet and realized that she lost an incredibly amount of weight, practically skin and bones. I also found that she had been limping. I made the dreaded V-E-T appointment to have it checked out. I had hoped that perhaps she injured herself. When the day came, I took her to the Vet and found not only she did lose a lot of weight but her heart was racing so fast that the Dr. couldn’t count how many beats it was going. He drew blood for tests and when they came out he was baffled: she was normal. I thought she did injure herself after all because of the limping. Well apparently not. Another visit it was concluded that she had a heart disease, an aorta embolism that released a clot that was in her hind leg causing her to limp. He prescribed a heart med as well as aspirin to help thin her blood with the clot. The heart med helped slow down her fast beating heart and the limp came and went, came and went. Both the Dr. and my mom were thinking the end was near while I, mostly likely in denial, didn’t want to give up hope on Missy. I felt that she may not recover from her heart disease but she could at least live with it with the meds. I just didn’t want to give up on her too quickly. She was only a baby, she may have been 9 years old but she was the baby of the family and she fit that word in every sense. Although I held out hope, I also felt my heart breaking. I am not a big crier but that entire time of Missy being ill, I cried. Watching, feeling, hearing her was all heart breaking. I didn’t want to lose my baby, not yet. I thought it was unfair for her especially, why a painful thing was hurting a sweet cat who did not deserve this kind of suffering. During that time, my Mom and I took turns of her sleeping with one of us until the last two days where we all slept together. After her seizure that she had on a Saturday, June 20, we thought of putting her down to sleep for good. I heard a thump behind the couch in the living room, heard Missy howled and went for her. I called up for my Mom who had planned to take her car in for a check up, Missy was shaking. We decided right there to hurry to an Animal Hospital to put her down. Our vet was closed so we went to another place that I knew about but they said something about them not being a 24-hour facility and wanting to hook her up to oxygen, an IV to see how long she would last. What??? Why? I didn’t want her to go through that! Especially her being far from home. I knew she wouldn’t have gone for that either. They suggested a hospital that was 24 hours so we decided to check it’s whereabouts. By that point Missy was back to ‘normal’, she seemed calm, herself pretty much that we decided to just go home and one of us be with her at all times. That was when we decided to sleep together as a family, feeling that she could die pretty much any time. On Sunday, June 21, my Uncle was having a birthday/Father’s day family get together. We called up asking permission to take Missy with us in her cat carrier so we can keep monitoring her. It may have been a bad idea but we were worried, we wanted to be with her. Missy was a trooper though. I made sure her carrier was comfy with newspapers, towel, and a mat thing in case she has any bathroom accidents, brought her food that we were force-feeding her with syringes. It also gave the chance for my cousins who held an affection for her (as she was never mean to them as Snowball, especially after they’ve pulled her tail kinda thing- she is NOT used to kids at all while Missy never hurt them) to say goodbye to her. My Mom and I had already decided to put her down on Monday, together.

..Monday June 22, 2009 came...it came too quick. After her seizure on Saturday Missy went for a turn for a worst. She was peeing wherever she was, she couldn’t go as far anymore, just a few steps then she’s down. We tried putting another litter box for the upstairs (the main one is downstairs) so she can have easy access to it but it turned out to be unnecessary. We tried making her final day with us special, letting her be at her favorite places, especially on her little cat bed that’s between my room and the office room upstairs. She even went outside for a few minutes to eat some grass and enjoy herself with fresh air. The morning of the dreaded day, Mom took the day off from work and I called the Vet to move up her appointment that she had originally to check her heartbeat to put her down. ..10:30 AM... When the time came close to leave, we opt not to take the cat carrier…what was the point? So while Mom drove, I held her. I think she knew, she meowed a bit. Both Mom and I were feeling very sad, but it was very clear too. Our cat was suffering, she was in pain. You can hear it with her purring, feel it with her skin and bones, it was just too painful. When we got there, Mom wanted to hold her so she can say goodbye. We went into the exam room while the Dr. was with another furry patient so we used that time to be with her, petting her, telling her how much we love her, how much we will miss her, telling her that she was a very good cat, how blessed we are to have her in our lives, telling her that this was the hardest thing to do but she’ll be in a better place. I told her to see my great-Grandmother Lucy, she was a cat lover- all cats loved her lap; I always remembered a cat being on her lap whenever I went up to Pennslyvania to see her. My Grandmother was not a cat person although I’m sure she would at least help out or something, I don’t know, for the love of her daughter and granddaughter, but I think Missy would have been better off with Grandma Lucy. Anyway, Missy got to the point where she was biting whenever we put our hands near her face and at that point, my Mom asked me if I wanted to hold her. Of course I did! When I got her into my arms, I felt her slump but didn’t think it was unusual, I thought she was trying to hide as she had done many times before at the vet. Then I felt her pee, “Eww gross she just peed on me!” I wasn’t mad at Missy for peeing on me, however- knowing what she’s going through and the situation she had been with going to the bathroom, all I could really do is let it go. My mom thought it was funny—Missy had peed on her twice before during the whole month she was ill and I thought it was funny! Okay so we laugh at toilet humor, I admit it. Mom got up for the paper towels and while I was cleaning up (luckily she mostly peed on my hand and floor, not on my clothes), that was when I realized Missy wasn’t responding. Her eyes were open but emotionless. At that moment the Dr. assistant came in and I know I asked Missy “are you dead? Missy?” I put Missy on the check up counter and the assistant went to check on her mouth to see some color and then went to get the Dr. He came in with his heart thingy (sorry, I can say it outloud but I can not spell it) and he checked for a heart beat, then he said that word: “Sorry”. I felt a huge weight lift off my shoulders to tell you the truth. I had spent that whole month force feeding her like a baby, trying to get her take her medicine, I no longer have to do that anymore. Snowball is healthy, especially for her age, sharp as a tack, very much independent for a 14 year old.

When Mom and I came home, I was just feeling numb. The house already felt empty without Missy’s presence. Although I do very much miss her, I know she’s at peace. I don’t have to hear that whimpering in her purr, the pain looked in her face whenever I see her. I do miss her, I fight the urge not to get up from this chair to wonder where she’s hiding or hanging out. My Mom misses her regular bed buddy (Snowball is my regular bed buddy). I believe Snowball is missing her roommate- she’s realizing her litter box isn’t being shared and that only one food bowl is going down instead of two, which means less food for her (funny cat, I have a female version of Garfield, I swear). Two times since Missy died so far, Snowball howled looking for her. It’s like taking attendance roll call with that cat- she checks to makes sure you are home. Do you have a cat like that? Just recently, after both Mom and I called out for her to let her know where we were in the house, Snowball kept meowing. Both Mom and I were downstairs and I checked to find where she was and found her half way of the stairs looking up, probably thinking Missy’s upstairs as she used to be at most of the time. So I do believe she misses her despite the rough start. She had almost 9 years living with Missy, which was more longer then she was solo for the first five years of her life. It’s nice to know that Snowball did like Missy- they hated the forced family time but they tolerated each other, played with one another. However Snowball also knew she would be a dead cat if she did any real harm to Missy so the fights were rare after the three months of first living together. But that’s what cats do- they are very territorial so you can’t really blame them.

Missy 2000-2009