Archives for Animal Tales category
That last final exam I had to take was the worst testing experience of my entire twenty-one years’ worth of schooling. By far. It would have been bad even without losing Mr. Tabby; with it, it was unbearable. I’ve never taken an exam before where I honestly had no idea whether I would pass at all.
After the exam, I had more cleaning to do at the rental, and then I had to head home and pack, and the next day I was on a plane. Where was my time to grieve?
As difficult as it was after that experience to hop on a plane and go spend two weeks with complete strangers, it turned out to be the most therapeutic thing I could have done. Instead of sitting at home and feeling Mr. Tabby’s absence acutely, I was thrown headlong into a very challenging learning experience with no time at all for self-pity. And I got to interact with hundreds of animals, which in itself is therapeutic. (I’ll give more details about that trip in a later post.)
After I came home, the worst of the pain had subsided, I think, but losing a loved one is a lot like having a scab. Sometimes the pain is barely noticeable, and sometimes something rips it off, and it becomes fresh and raw all over again. Over time, though, those somethings become further apart, and the scab heals a little more until the pain is finally gone, but the memory, like a scar, is always there.
The wound was fresh and raw the day I Googled cremation jewelry; at that moment I felt a compelling need to keep him with me all the time. The wound was raw the day I got his ashes back, tied up with the metal tag that I’d placed on his foot. Except now the tag was blackened and charred.
There are happier moments, though, too. Cat Mandu, whom I would have called very set in her ways, has taken up loping around the stairwell when her meals are being prepared, something Mr. Tabby used to do. It reminds me of him, and makes me smile.
Whenever I open the downstairs closet where he lived for so long, I think about seeing his cute little face tucked among the blankets.
And when we talk about things like lymphoma and PCVs in school, I touch the little moon-shaped necklace I sometimes wear to remind me of him.
The fourth-year student who worked on Mr. Tabby’s case had told me that I wasn’t crazy for pursuing treatment. If anything, he said, I would learn a lot more about cancer than I’d learn in class, so it would be money well spent. He was right about that.
What I didn’t expect was discovering just how far in love you can fall with a handsome little Maine Coon cat who used to live in the back of your closet. No one can prepare you for that.
I miss you, Tabs.
Oct 11, 2011 | | Animal Tales
Up until then, the only experience I’d had with euthanasia was from the veterinary perspective, not the client perspective. Still, having witnessed this process so many times before certainly made it much, much easier. I didn’t have to process any of the technical details.
I was taken to a comfy little room with a sofa and a year’s supply of Kleenex, then left alone to say my final goodbyes. What was there to say? It was more important just to be, to hold his little head in the crook of my arm one more time.
I sang him his little lullaby again. “Bubsy’s boat’s a silver moon, sailing in the sky, sailing o’er a sea of dreams, as the clouds drift by… Sail, Bubsy, sail, out across the sea, only don’t forget to sail back again to me.” I had trouble getting the last few words out.
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Oct 10, 2011 | | Animal Tales
March flew by, then April, and then the homestretch of my freshman year was upon me. I was frantically studying for exams, and dealing with losing one renter and gaining another. I was also tweaking Mr. Tabby’s chemo schedule so that I could be gone for two weeks with the Humane Society Veterinary Medical Association on a spay/neuter trip, which started the day after finals.
I thought about backing out of the trip, but I’d been planning on it for a while before Mr. Tabby got sick, and I knew it would be a fabulous opportunity. Still, I had one eye on the door just in case I needed to bail out.
About two weeks before finals, I looked over and saw Mr. Tabby snoozing peacefully in the sun, and, for the millionth time, I was really, really happy that I’d started chemo. Mr. Tabby seemed to be in better spirits than he’d ever been. But something made me grab my camera and start snapping as many pictures of him as I could.
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Oct 09, 2011 | | Animal Tales
In March, Mr. Tabby decided to start eating less and start puking more. This is never a good thing, but I wasn’t really anticipating how much of a not good thing it was.
The vet discovered a mass in his abdomen, and gave the tentative diagnosis of GI lymphoma, a disease about which I knew nothing at the time. My options were to give him prednisone to keep him comfy until died, or to get a firm diagnosis and possibly initiate chemotherapy.
I chose the latter, partially because, with vet student perks, the treatment would almost be affordable for me, and partially because, if you’ll recall, Mr. Tabby only came out his closet 5 months before. FIVE MONTHS! This was not fair, and I wanted to give the little guy a fighting chance.
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Oct 08, 2011 | | Animal Tales
I went to my first ever cat show yesterday. A smallish, regional affair, with maybe 100 or so contestants. And… wow.
First of all, I had no idea that there are actually people out there who would pay upwards of $2,000 for a purebred cat. Worse yet, I had no idea there were breeders out there who would try to sell a purebred cat WITH AN UPPER RESPIRATORY TRACT INFECTION, for crying out loud, for upwards of $2,000.
The whole thing just made me sad… there are so many thousands of kitties out there who need homes, and here people are spending thousands upon thousands of dollars breeding and trading them. I just don’t get it. Well, I get the part about maintaining certain breeds. But appreciating the finer characteristics of a breed is one thing, while purchasing a cat-shaped accessory is altogether different. *sigh*
At the show, there were rows upon rows of cats in carriers. Not your standard carriers, mind you, but carriers that allowed passersby to see the cats inside in all their glory. The brand of choice seemed to be Sturdi Products, such as this one: Read the rest of this entry »
Jun 20, 2011 | | Animal Tales
That’s the standard line in show business, because kids and animals are almost assuredly going to 1) do something wildly unpredictable, 2) upstage you, or 3) both.
Knowing this, I’m not entirely sure why I agreed to do a monologue in the play “Talking With” that involved not just an animal co-star, but a cat, for crying out loud. The show calls for a live cat, although plenty of productions substitute dogs, or even stuffed toys. Our director was insistent on a live cat.
A woman in town volunteered her “very mellow” cat for the job, much to his chagrin. True, he was very mellow, but he still didn’t appreciate being dragged out of his house, shoved into a box, and hauled up on a bright stage in a dark room full of people. Somehow, we both managed fine until closing night, which was something close to utter madness.
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Jan 08, 2011 | | Animal Tales
So long, Vick.
Yesterday was our final exam in anatomy, and when it was over, all of our dogs–the dogs we’ve been dissecting all semester–were wheeled away on gurneys, never to be seen again.
It made me a little sad. I am mourning a dog I never actually met. Read the rest of this entry »
Dec 18, 2010 | | Animal Tales, School Daze
I am happy to report that Cat Mandu is 1) alive and 2) her eosinophilic crapola flareup is under control.
A couple months ago, she started acting really lethargic and not eating–and when she doesn’t eat, something is really wrong. Her right leg was also a little swollen, with a bit of muscle wasting. In an odd and possibly incidental finding, there was about a millimeter of exposed bone on the very tip of her tail.
I took her in for an exam and blood work, and everything, save the above, was completely normal. As much as you hate to see illness appear on blood work, sometimes it’s just nice to know that you have an answer. In her case, we had no idea.
(I got a little frustrated at the idea that I am going to spend the next four years, and then the rest of my life, learning about veterinary medicine, only to be presented with some case like this, where I have to admit I have no idea what’s wrong. Ugh.) Read the rest of this entry »
Dec 09, 2010 | | Animal Tales
I have been snoozing by this fireplace my whole life. Can't you tell?
Mr. Tabby, my little adoptee, has come out of the closet! It’s only been oh, 11 months. That has to be some kind of record.
It was a relatively quick affair once he’d made up his mind about it, poor bubsy. And now that he’s out, he is a super snugglesaurus lap cat. Yay!
Cat Mandu is tolerating him pretty well, unless he gets too close, at which point she’ll bop him on the nose. He takes it like a pro, since he lived around so many other cats for so long. I’ve been intrigued by how he sneaks up a little bit closer to her every week, gradually getting her used to him.
Once, they were even in my lap at the same time! I think Mandu was too sleepy to notice he’d snuck in, because when she woke up, she bopped him on the head and left in a huff.
He’s still a bit timid, but all in all he’s turning out to be a heckuva nice cat.
Two cats at once!
Dec 06, 2010 | | Animal Tales
Mr. Bones was a wire-haired Vizsla, with a tuft of golden hair atop his head, expressive green eyes, and a whiskery beard that gave him the look of a wise old man. He was a bit timid, but it didn’t take him long to warm up to you and when he did, he would dole out tentative little dog kisses with his warm, wet tongue.
He spent his last two days on death row.
Mr. Bones’ only crime was having had one too many staph infections. When his owner also came down with a life-threatening staph infection, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to jump to the conclusion that Mr. Bones might be the carrier of an horrific strain of bacteria. Read the rest of this entry »
Jun 20, 2010 | | Animal Tales
