IPB

Welcome Guest ( Log In | Register )

Profile
Personal Photo
Options
Options
Personal Statement
LillyGreyshipp doesn't have a personal statement currently.
Personal Info
LillyGreyshipp
Age Unknown
Gender Not Set
Location Unknown
Birthday Unknown
Interests
No Information
Statistics
Joined: 26-September 12
Profile Views: 1,174*
Last Seen: 29th January 2013 - 02:22 AM
Local Time: Mar 28 2024, 11:53 PM
7 posts (0 per day)
Contact Information
AIM No Information
Yahoo No Information
ICQ No Information
MSN No Information
* Profile views updated each hour

LillyGreyshipp

Pet Lovers


Topics
Posts
Comments
Friends
My Content
25 Jan 2013
I got my new cat from the shelter several months ago. Charlie is two and a half. He's not a bad cat, but he's a different cat. My previous cat spent most of his time in the same room with me, or on my lap. I got used to and enjoyed the company. Charlie is MUCH more independent and prefers to spend his time in the living room instead of in my room with me. Like I said, it's not a bad thing, just not what I wanted in a cat.

The other night I was really down. He came to me, snuggled up, put a paw on my chest and purred. Without saying a word, he used them big blue peepers of his to let me know that he DOES love me and is very glad I rescued him from the shelter, and to be patient because he is, after all, the equivalent of a college kid. I'm really glad he told me. <3

Three mins later Charlie was back to his ADD self, lol.

Photo: Not the best expression, but the only pic I've gotten of his pretty peepers.
Attached image(s)
Attached Image
 
17 Jan 2013
Tonight I remembered something about my departed cat, Poods. Not sure why, but it struck me as funny. For the last year of the old guy's life, he had a lump of fat on his side. (I took him to the vet to make sure it wasn't something harmful.) While he slept beside me, I'd push the fat around a lil under his skin. It was one of those little details I got used to.

While petting my new kitty, Charlie, I found myself looking for the fat lump.

What a weird thing to miss about a cat.
3 Jan 2013
It sounds so stupid and cleche but I have a hole in my heart.

I'll be forward with this, I have depression/anxiety issues. When things would get bad, I could look at my cat and keep living. We loved each other and I didn't trust his care to anyone else.

Now he's gone.

I got another cat from the shelter. He's not a bad cat, but we don't have a connection. He'd rather hang out in the living room then in my room with me. He wants to cuddle for five minutes a day, and that's it.

I miss my cat. And further more, I miss the bond we had.

I could be wrong, but I think it would help me a lot if I could have that bond again. But I don't know how to get it.

I need a lap cat, but I don't know how to get one. Supposing I could get one, would it help?
27 Sep 2012
First, I wish I had found this place sooner. I didn’t receive the support I needed in the other place I was seeking it, that’s for sure. I even got emails from people telling me to put my cat down right after he was diagnosed.

Second, I apologize in advance for how long this is. Friends who ARE supportive have been told bits and pieces, but I really need to get the whole picture off my chest.


One day in second grade I came home to find three kittens in a cage. I kept asking dad questions, trying to figure out why there were kittens; questions like were we watching them for a friend? No matter how badly I wanted a kitten or a pony, parents have to be responsible and say no. I had grudgingly accepted that fact and knew I would never get surprise present animals like most other kids. After lots of questions, dad eventually dad spilled the beans. Clover, a rather evil female cat had vanished a few days before, and she left us something. Dad found the three little kittens in a storage area outside. He followed the trail of mewing.

Three kittens. One grey tabby with tiger stripes: Tiger. One jet black: Midnight. One orange tabby. A memory that still haunts me, Midnight met her fate under mom’s rocking chair. Ever since that day I’ve been paranoid of cats and rocking chairs/recliners. I’m really glad I wasn’t there for the incident itself. Tiger we gave to a nice college age couple outside the grocery store. They were very excited.

The third, the orange tabby, much to my surprise, I got to keep. His original name was kitty. kitty Cat. I was all of 8 years old and had no idea what kitty is slang for. Eventually his name morphed into Poods.

There was one catch. Poods was to be an outside cat. Being a kid I had no authority and thus Poods became our outside cat. This is something I deeply deeply regret as an adult. I missed out on a lot of my best friend’s life.

Poods was there to greet me /every day/ I got home from school. He saw me from second grade to highschool graduation and two years of college. He was there to greet mom /every day/ she got home from work. If any member of the family was outside, he would hang with them. Every time one of us sat down, he was instantly on our lap being a lover. Every passerby on the sidewalk would get mooched for extra attention. Our neighbors seemed to like him. One would feed him tuna now and then, the others would comment about watching him in their yard.

Somehow, Poods survived traffic, dogs, raccoons, mountain lions, humans and the elements. (I’m in Colorado, winter can get cold and rough.)

One of my fondest memories of him, I was in maybe fourth grade. It was winter and had snowed and I was out in back playing in the snow. Who should saunter (oh he wrote the book on sauntering) but Poods. I sat down in the snow and he crawled on top of me, purring his head off. I was all proud of myself for giving him something better then snow to sit on.

He was quite the birder, and would often leave us presents on the porch. One day, well after the incident, the neighbors informed us he had landed a pigeon through their kitchen window. They were sitting there eating lunch and CRASH! They wouldn’t let us pay for the window, even though it was our cat at fault. The enjoyment they got from watching him cat around in their yard was the only compensation they needed.

For the majority of my life, I took him for granted. He was a constant. Life moved and changed, but Poods was always there.

Eventually he turned 12, I put my foot down and brought him inside. Winter was too cold and he was too old for that crap any more. It took some adjustment, but he settled into being an indoor/outdoor cat. Mostly outdoor still. He had his favorite places outside. I think half the reason he came in was it meant more quality time with me. (The other half being that’s where we fed him, lol.)

Until a few months ago, he was happy and healthy. His thin frame put on a good amount of padding now that he wasn’t fighting the elements for use of his food all the time. Life went on.

He started slowing down. We didn’t think anything of it, he was an older cat after all.

Life continued until one evening he puked and pooped green. I’ve seen enough cat barf with plant matter in it to know it wasn’t chlorophyll making this stuff green. The next day I took him into the vet. There wasn’t much they could do. They gave him a shot of steroids and sent us home.

After that things just got worse. The vet did a test and the results for his liver/kidney wasn’t good. They suspected renal failure and sent us home with special food. It did nothing and he lost an entire pound in a week. The vet gently let me know his end was coming.

All of this of course cost money. It’s 50$ just to go thru the vet’s front door. Mom is employed, not making a great deal, but enough that we all have food and shelter. (Yeh, I’m 24 and live with my parents, stupid economy.)

I reached into my savings account and paid for an ultrasound.

My best friend was diagnosed with gastro intestinal cancer.

Given his age, poor health and our finances, it wasn’t recommended to do treatment. I agreed.

The best they could do was keep us supplied with cat morphine.

He stopped eating all together and I was feeding him with a syringe.

I had never dealt with an ill and dying companion animal before. I have never lost someone close to me before.

I did some reading on quality of life and minus the feeding issue, Poods seemed like he was happy according to the criteria. I knew the time would come, but I wanted to let him have as many sunbeams as possible, and me as many snuggles as possible.

Then he had his first bad day. His hind legs barely worked and aside from the litter box visit, he didn’t leave my bed. From what I had read, dying cats have good and bad days, so I thought lets wait till tomorrow and see how his day is. Tomorrow came. He wasn’t any better or worse. Then evening came and he started displaying increased signs of pain. I called the afterhours vet so freaked out I could only whisper on the phone. He said up the pain meds. (We do not have a 24 hour clinic. Just 8-5 with some poor smuck on call with a cell phone.)

I didn’t think things would get as bad as it did.

I gave Poods more meds and went to bed.

At 3am he barfed in my parents room on dad’s dirty laundry. It was rank smelling, as his bodily functions had been for a while. The commotion woke me up. I didn’t know what the hell to do so I gave him more meds and let him do as he pleased… I went back to bed but couldn’t sleep.

Seems neither could dad. An hour later he came in and told me to do something about my cat (in a nice way). So I gathered Poods up and set him on my bed.

He was writhing in pain. Panting and gasping in agony. Crying out like someone was torturing him. So help me god I never want to see a human or animal do that again. His kitty morphine wasn’t even touching his agony.

Upset and freaked as hell, I called the vet. It was time to put him down.

The vet, however, had his own problem. His 8 month old daughter had been up all night with a high fever. Him and his wife were taking her in to the ER. He told me his clinic opened at 7.30. (The vets seem to share one on call smuck despite which vet office you actually go to during the day.) I told him to take his daughter.

All I could do was stroke my best friend and whisper to him that his angel was on the way.

Fifteen minutes of hell later, he passed.

When my vet office opened at 8, I took the body in. Rigor is creepy, seriously creepy. I get the ashes back later today. (9/27/12)

Partly I’m relieved. I didn’t realize how much of a toll taking care of him in his final weeks was. the sorrow and agony didn’t really hit until now. The day after his death I had a cat sitting job, which meant a fluffy friend to pet for several days. I’m home now and none of our other pets are cuddly. Our other cat is anti-affection which drives me nuts, she’s so soft.

Logically I know I did the best I could. However I feel guilty about not taking him in sooner to be euthanized. But there was no way I could know that night would get so bad.

Poods is off with the Angels.

I miss him. It hurts.

Charlie came home from the shelter with me earlier. I just went to pet cats, I didn’t intend to get another one just yet. My heart still hurts. However… while mom was cooing over an adorable female, I was grabbed by Charlie’s big blue eyes. He was clearly heartsick and miserable. He’s two, and his family game him up for what in my opinion was a stupid reason. I think, we’ll be the best of friends soon enough. It helps a lot having someone to pet. He’s a lover and the softest animal I’ve ever touched.

I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to read all of this.
Attached image(s)
Attached Image
 
Last Visitors


3 Oct 2012 - 2:38

Comments
Other users have left no comments for LillyGreyshipp.

Friends
There are no friends to display.
Lo-Fi Version Time is now: 29th March 2024 - 01:53 AM