I just woke up! What a wonderful nap. Ya-a-a-wn!
In this post I wish to tell you about a very unhappy person. One day, a man came over and he brought in some boxes and took them up to Mom's office. He was up there for a while and they talked quite a bit, then he left. He didn't take the boxes with him. Cherokee and I were, of course, curious as to what the man brought into our house. Mom kept the door shut for a while, but then she let us see later on. For goodness sake! It was an all-black feline. As we got to know her over the following days and weeks, we found that she was an older female who was quite cranky. She had been with the man for some time and she was very angry that suddenly she found herself at our house, with us, torn away from her Daddy. She told us that some of her ancestors were from Siam, and that made her special. We didn't quite see it that way, though.
She was very snooty and bragged about her electric litter box. We found it rather scary and smelly. When Mom would clean out the collection container, there would be litter on the carpet underneath. Also, some of the stuff she left in there got stuck on the mechanisms and had to be specially cleaned off. She came to us without a name (I think she had been called "cat," so Mom meditated on it for a while and realized that her name was Kitta. Not a bad name, if you ask me, but no one did. Kitta didn't care too much for it, but then she didn't care too much for anything, except trying to figure out how to get back to her Daddy.
As I said before, Kitta was elderly, and sometimes she didn't always get everything into the litter box, and the office began to smell. Evidently, she had peed a lot off the side of the box and the carpet was in very bad shape. Mom really didn't know what to do about her. She took Kitta in so that the man would not take her to be euthanized. That's what they would have done because of her age. Probably no one would have adopted her. We felt a little sorry for Kitta, and wanted to get to know her and maybe even cuddle with her, but she was not open to that sort of thing, preferring to stay aloof. Mom moved her down to the guest room, and sometimes would let her out into the rest of the house, but she would just attack us. She was not gentle and used her claws and teeth to their fullest. Eventually, we decided that we didn't like her and didn't want her in our house anymore, but what could we do?
One day, Mom was petting Kitta and trying to get her to be affectionate, but mostly she scratched and bit Mom, too. Well, Mom found a lump in Kitta's side. Into the box and off to the vet she went. As Mom told it, the vet was going to do a biopsy, but in feeling the lump realized that it was a hernia, so Mom said to go ahead and fix it. Expensive! Kitta came home extra-grouchy and wearing what Mom called an Elizabethan collar. How funny! Cherokee and I laughed like crazy when we would see her. She hated the collar, she hated the vet, she hated Mom, she hated us. So much anger in one small, black-furred body!
Some time later, Mom realized that Kitta was missing the litter box most of the time and had thoroughly ruined the carpet in the guest room. Realizing that there was probably something more wrong with Kitta, back to the vet they went. Kitta did not come back. Mom said that the vet felt she was very old and quite sick and that she would probably never be in really good health, having either kidney failure or diabetes. Not long after that, Mom ripped up the carpet in the guest room, with the help of a friend. The concrete slab underneath even smelled bad. She scrubbed it and put all kinds of things on it to make the smell go away. Eventually it did. However, the carpet in the office still gives off an odor sometimes, especially on humid days.
Cherokee and I were not sorry to see Kitta gone. She was just making our lives miserable. I'm sorry that her end had to come in such a way, but we definitely did not miss her. Even Mom felt relief. Finally, we could get back to normal.
I hear a nap calling me now, so I need to go answer it. I'm just exhausted thinking about Kitta. I will take a good nap and wash the thoughts of her right out of my mind.
Yours,
Apache
No comments:
Post a Comment