Friday, April 23, 2010
When a Pet Dies
It's hard to traverse the journey of a pet who is dying. It is especially tricky when you have young kids, because to them, he is more like a sibling than just an animal. And of course, he is more than "just" an animal to us as well. But, we more readily depict the differences between his passing versus a family member's movement beyond this world.
We've been preparing our kids for this day, Sage's last day. Our tan kitty who used to weigh seventeen pounds and easily stood three feet tall when standing up on his back feet, is now a seven pound pile of tender bones and fur. He is the one who used to race his paws on our bedroom door like an Olympic swimmer, the same one who would shut our bedroom door in those wee morning hours, begging to come back in. He was the one who kept my kids' beds warm, the one who tickled his nose up into my face in the early morning to say hello. I will miss him tremendously because he was our "baby" before we actually had real babies.
We told our son before leaving for school that he would not see his kitty again. So, he said goodbye. He was sad, but fairly collected, as he knew this day was coming. Each of the last three visits to the vet were optimistic attempts to extend this period out, but to no avail, old age and obtrusive tumors have taken their toll. He can no longer breathe comfortably. His body aches at every turn and his walking now requires assistance.
To help my middle daughter grieve, I asked her to draw her kitty a goodbye note and a picture. She wrote, "Goodbye Sage. I love you Sage" and then signed her name. We found three books with cats in them and sat in the downstairs bathroom to read them to him. He lies on one of our family blankets and another gently covers his body. My daughter set his water right next to his head so he wouldn't have to get up. We also sang "Jesus loves kitty, this I know..." to comfort him during these last hours.
Saying goodbye is hard no matter how old you are. Tears have already filled my eyes just writing this piece. I want to be the mature one, the one to comfort my kids when Sage breathes his last breath, but I'm afraid that they will have to comfort me. I know today is his last day; I can tell by his lowered level of consciousness and by his depleted will to go on. I guess it's the way it's supposed to be. He looks peaceful, unconcerned with the things around him. It's like he knows that he's moving on.
Goodbye Sage. I love you my sweet kitty. I will miss you and remember you always. I wish you didn't have to die, but that is part of this life, moving on and saying goodbye to us. Thank you for the cat you have been for our family, a loving, tenacious, and faithful cat.
We've been preparing our kids for this day, Sage's last day. Our tan kitty who used to weigh seventeen pounds and easily stood three feet tall when standing up on his back feet, is now a seven pound pile of tender bones and fur. He is the one who used to race his paws on our bedroom door like an Olympic swimmer, the same one who would shut our bedroom door in those wee morning hours, begging to come back in. He was the one who kept my kids' beds warm, the one who tickled his nose up into my face in the early morning to say hello. I will miss him tremendously because he was our "baby" before we actually had real babies.
We told our son before leaving for school that he would not see his kitty again. So, he said goodbye. He was sad, but fairly collected, as he knew this day was coming. Each of the last three visits to the vet were optimistic attempts to extend this period out, but to no avail, old age and obtrusive tumors have taken their toll. He can no longer breathe comfortably. His body aches at every turn and his walking now requires assistance.
To help my middle daughter grieve, I asked her to draw her kitty a goodbye note and a picture. She wrote, "Goodbye Sage. I love you Sage" and then signed her name. We found three books with cats in them and sat in the downstairs bathroom to read them to him. He lies on one of our family blankets and another gently covers his body. My daughter set his water right next to his head so he wouldn't have to get up. We also sang "Jesus loves kitty, this I know..." to comfort him during these last hours.
Saying goodbye is hard no matter how old you are. Tears have already filled my eyes just writing this piece. I want to be the mature one, the one to comfort my kids when Sage breathes his last breath, but I'm afraid that they will have to comfort me. I know today is his last day; I can tell by his lowered level of consciousness and by his depleted will to go on. I guess it's the way it's supposed to be. He looks peaceful, unconcerned with the things around him. It's like he knows that he's moving on.
Goodbye Sage. I love you my sweet kitty. I will miss you and remember you always. I wish you didn't have to die, but that is part of this life, moving on and saying goodbye to us. Thank you for the cat you have been for our family, a loving, tenacious, and faithful cat.
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Franklin, the Spa-Kitty
My sister's fuzzy furball is a spa-kitty named Franklin. You can barely see his handsome blue eyes amidst all that fur. Naturally, he's a Himalayan, but he wouldn't survive for one second near those mountains. He sleeps about twenty-six hours per day drowned in the relaxing wine-filled air of Temecula, California. While Franklin is neither tough nor lean, his real prowess is evidenced by his too-cool attitude and his calm state-of-mind.
His bravery may be falsely labeled as stupidity, but he does not back down from an oncoming attacker ten times his size. Nor does he freak out when sprayed with water. He actually loved taking baths with my sister when he was just a kitten. Now, as an adult cat, he lies on the side of her Roman tub while she soaks amidst a plethora of candles. He's so knightly that he's even caught his tail on fire a few times. He probably does it intentionally so he can jump in with her.
Perhaps Franklin's most noble attribute is his ability to roll with the punches. When my sister adopted a female Tonkinese kitty named Tonka, Franklin willingly gave up some of the space in his pad. Even though Tonka took months to appreciate his sacrifice, they eventually became buddies. When confronted with Tonka's perpetual hissing, Franklin just decided to turn up the volume on his iPod. Tonka's ally-cat attitude melted away over the subsequent months from Franklin's spa-kitty demeanor, whose real concern is always about the timing of his next cucumber facial.
Last year, when my sister brought home a Weimaraner named Cali, Franklin was certainly less than thrilled about it. But, he adjusted to the new situation by letting the Weimy know that he was still the boss. No fear also means no brains, but don't tell Franklin that. Cali would leap around like a wild gazelle with her gangly legs flying everywhere. It was of no consequence to Franklin, even though his space was shrinking yet again. He didn't let it get the best of him because at least he was getting some doggie-licks in between his spa-treatments.
Jump ahead five more months and make room for a seventy pound female chocolate Labrador named Bella. She's definitely less active than Cali, but a bit more floppy on the bed at night. Franklin would announce, "Move over wide-load. We're cool as long as I'm right next to Mommy." He was especially understanding because this was Grammy's dog and at least they'd already met before. More licks. More unwelcome brown hair amidst his pearly white blanket of fur. Once again, Franklin pulled through.
The lesson I've learned from Franklin over the years is that you have to be flexible. Just as we can not control the weather, we can not manipulate life's changes or its disappointments. The fact is that pay-cuts, lay-offs, and illnesses affect good people like you and me. Even our kids struggle. Whether it's with health problems or difficulties at school, we see them working through their own issues. Although it's not easy to adjust to the ebb and flow of life and its inconvenient glitches, it is necessary.
When life gets you down, try to respond like Franklin by keeping your cool. When new animals entered his world, he didn't get incensed and he didn't give up. Instead, he just took it in stride. He realized he couldn't control the situation, so he minimized his pity-party feelings and trusted that things would turn around.
With each oncoming challenge, Franklin reminded himself of his blessings: his unending supply of hugs from Mommy, his surplus of tasty treats in the drawer, his daily allowance of naps, and his toasty warm bed. Even though Franklin has had to learn to share the spotlight, he's adjusted to the changes.
Share your funny cat stories here. Also, let us know how you've benefited from going with the flow.
His bravery may be falsely labeled as stupidity, but he does not back down from an oncoming attacker ten times his size. Nor does he freak out when sprayed with water. He actually loved taking baths with my sister when he was just a kitten. Now, as an adult cat, he lies on the side of her Roman tub while she soaks amidst a plethora of candles. He's so knightly that he's even caught his tail on fire a few times. He probably does it intentionally so he can jump in with her.
Perhaps Franklin's most noble attribute is his ability to roll with the punches. When my sister adopted a female Tonkinese kitty named Tonka, Franklin willingly gave up some of the space in his pad. Even though Tonka took months to appreciate his sacrifice, they eventually became buddies. When confronted with Tonka's perpetual hissing, Franklin just decided to turn up the volume on his iPod. Tonka's ally-cat attitude melted away over the subsequent months from Franklin's spa-kitty demeanor, whose real concern is always about the timing of his next cucumber facial.
Last year, when my sister brought home a Weimaraner named Cali, Franklin was certainly less than thrilled about it. But, he adjusted to the new situation by letting the Weimy know that he was still the boss. No fear also means no brains, but don't tell Franklin that. Cali would leap around like a wild gazelle with her gangly legs flying everywhere. It was of no consequence to Franklin, even though his space was shrinking yet again. He didn't let it get the best of him because at least he was getting some doggie-licks in between his spa-treatments.
Jump ahead five more months and make room for a seventy pound female chocolate Labrador named Bella. She's definitely less active than Cali, but a bit more floppy on the bed at night. Franklin would announce, "Move over wide-load. We're cool as long as I'm right next to Mommy." He was especially understanding because this was Grammy's dog and at least they'd already met before. More licks. More unwelcome brown hair amidst his pearly white blanket of fur. Once again, Franklin pulled through.
The lesson I've learned from Franklin over the years is that you have to be flexible. Just as we can not control the weather, we can not manipulate life's changes or its disappointments. The fact is that pay-cuts, lay-offs, and illnesses affect good people like you and me. Even our kids struggle. Whether it's with health problems or difficulties at school, we see them working through their own issues. Although it's not easy to adjust to the ebb and flow of life and its inconvenient glitches, it is necessary.
When life gets you down, try to respond like Franklin by keeping your cool. When new animals entered his world, he didn't get incensed and he didn't give up. Instead, he just took it in stride. He realized he couldn't control the situation, so he minimized his pity-party feelings and trusted that things would turn around.
With each oncoming challenge, Franklin reminded himself of his blessings: his unending supply of hugs from Mommy, his surplus of tasty treats in the drawer, his daily allowance of naps, and his toasty warm bed. Even though Franklin has had to learn to share the spotlight, he's adjusted to the changes.
Share your funny cat stories here. Also, let us know how you've benefited from going with the flow.
Labels: cats, Franklin, go-with-the-flow
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
My Cat: Sage
Cats sleep, sleep, and then sleep some more. If you’re a cat-owner, then you know exactly what I mean. My cat Sage gets so relaxed that you’d seriously think he was dead. In fact, one day I did mistake him for dead while he was fast asleeeeeeeeep in my daughter’s crib. I was so convinced he was dead that I even started to get teary-eyed. I poked and prodded him hoping he would budge, but he didn’t. Eventually, he made a sharp motion that convinced me rigor mortis had kicked in. In actuality, he was just dead asleep.
In addition to my cat’s uncanny ability to sleep deeply for twenty three hours per day, my cat also snores like a bulldozer. You’ll be alone in the house and hear a noise that makes you think, “My gosh, someone’s in the house” and then you realize, “No, it’s just the cat snoring up a storm of thunderous Zs.”
Likewise, my cat has an excessive way of being affectionate, which is a nice term for "incredibly annoying". Don’t get me wrong, I looooooooooove cats, especially my cat. Nevertheless, when I sit down at my computer, I do actually desire to get something accomplished. My cat, however, does not understand this. Within seconds, I am attacked by his incessant plea to pet him while on top of the mouse pad or in front of the monitor. This is the same cat that jumps on the bed to lie on top of me or my husband the instant one of us gives evidence of wakefulness in the morning. This is particularly annoying when we are merely trying to change sides or get a sip of water but would like to retain our current REM cycle.
Another eccentricity about my cat is his need to paw on the doors as if he were an Olympic freestyle swimmer. It’s his way of communicating to us that he’d like to come in to the bathroom while we’re in there doing our business. Even when the door is adequately cracked open to our bedroom at night, Sage shuts the door on himself and then starts thrashing around as if he were being attacked by a Great White shark. Or, he does his swim workout while standing up four feet tall against our sliding glass doors to let us know he’d like to wander outside. At least this activity gets his blood pumping for a few minutes each day.
Now the hair is manageable, even though it covers the entire house, including most of our clothes and blankets. However, the hair that causes the puke-balls drives me to the edge of insanity. How can a few blades of grass cause our cat to vomit up all of his recently licked fur within seconds of re-entering the house? It’s absolutely mind-boggling and especially inconvenient when he manages to throw up on one tiny edge of our recently washed bedspread.
In all honesty, after caring for my three small kids every day, I have nothing left for the cat. Despite his extremely low status on the totem pole, he does his best to remind me that he was here even before the kids arrived. Even with his quirky disposition and his plethora of idiosyncrasies, I do love my cat.
He meows at me each morning to greet me into a new day, reminding me that I’m never alone. He lies in my kids’ beds keeping them nice and toasty throughout the day. And when I see him in his coma-like state of sleep, it occasionally inspires me to do the same. Even though he’s a pain in the you-know-what, he truly makes our house a home and will always be a valued member of our family.
In addition to my cat’s uncanny ability to sleep deeply for twenty three hours per day, my cat also snores like a bulldozer. You’ll be alone in the house and hear a noise that makes you think, “My gosh, someone’s in the house” and then you realize, “No, it’s just the cat snoring up a storm of thunderous Zs.”
Likewise, my cat has an excessive way of being affectionate, which is a nice term for "incredibly annoying". Don’t get me wrong, I looooooooooove cats, especially my cat. Nevertheless, when I sit down at my computer, I do actually desire to get something accomplished. My cat, however, does not understand this. Within seconds, I am attacked by his incessant plea to pet him while on top of the mouse pad or in front of the monitor. This is the same cat that jumps on the bed to lie on top of me or my husband the instant one of us gives evidence of wakefulness in the morning. This is particularly annoying when we are merely trying to change sides or get a sip of water but would like to retain our current REM cycle.
Another eccentricity about my cat is his need to paw on the doors as if he were an Olympic freestyle swimmer. It’s his way of communicating to us that he’d like to come in to the bathroom while we’re in there doing our business. Even when the door is adequately cracked open to our bedroom at night, Sage shuts the door on himself and then starts thrashing around as if he were being attacked by a Great White shark. Or, he does his swim workout while standing up four feet tall against our sliding glass doors to let us know he’d like to wander outside. At least this activity gets his blood pumping for a few minutes each day.
Now the hair is manageable, even though it covers the entire house, including most of our clothes and blankets. However, the hair that causes the puke-balls drives me to the edge of insanity. How can a few blades of grass cause our cat to vomit up all of his recently licked fur within seconds of re-entering the house? It’s absolutely mind-boggling and especially inconvenient when he manages to throw up on one tiny edge of our recently washed bedspread.
In all honesty, after caring for my three small kids every day, I have nothing left for the cat. Despite his extremely low status on the totem pole, he does his best to remind me that he was here even before the kids arrived. Even with his quirky disposition and his plethora of idiosyncrasies, I do love my cat.
He meows at me each morning to greet me into a new day, reminding me that I’m never alone. He lies in my kids’ beds keeping them nice and toasty throughout the day. And when I see him in his coma-like state of sleep, it occasionally inspires me to do the same. Even though he’s a pain in the you-know-what, he truly makes our house a home and will always be a valued member of our family.
