Saturday, December 22, 2007
So my school work is done, I just have grading to do. I'd be feeling pretty good except that Paul's cat, Monsieur Willy, had to be put down today. SHNIFF.
He'd been off his food this past month, though still strutting around yelling. We babysit him a couple weeks ago, and he was okay. But today Paul found, just before going to work, that Willy was acting different. He asked us to check on him--Fernando went over, and was concerned that Willy seemed to be in pain. He thought it best to take him to the vet.
Myriam's in town, so her mother drove them all down to the emergency vet in the evening. And the long and short is that they, in conference with me on the phone, and later Paul on the phone, decided it was probably best to put him to sleep. (Me balling away on the phone while trying to get out my opinion to F.) At least I got to give him some last pets before he left--I had a feeling this was how it would go. He's an old cat, and he just had that Death's Door look about him.
Even if he'd had something semi treatable (the vet thinks he was diabetic, and maybe other problems, so it wouldn't have been a simple treatment) he still would have had to be kept at the vet's for a couple days, to have an IV to rehydrate. I thought that would just be too awful for him. Cats HATE being away from home. How terrible to put him through trauma, only to have to bring him in again in a couple months, and still put him down. Instead, we figured, he's only been feeling sick a short while, he hasn't reached the stage where he's totally unresponsive to everyone (it's really sad to see an animal get to that point), he was sitting calmly on his velvet blanket with F and M petting him... it seemed like this would be the best way to go. Even for a human, non?
Oh la. Poor Fernando. He just LOVED that cat. Willy was one of the nicest cats I have ever met. So calm, so sweet, so friendly. We would have loved to take him, but... that would have set off the Meowee East again.
Even so, when F brought back our cage with the blankie, I wasn't thinking and set it down on a chair, and Sherry took ONE sniff and... FIVE ALARM FIRE!
Hiss! Hiss! Growl! Moan!
Haley of course gave as good as she got. I isolated her before she got really offended. Then locked up Nombly, while Sherry hid behind a bin hissing. I threw some niblets at him, and left him alone til he was ready to emerge.
And now, all night, he's totally accepting of Haley but he thinks Nombly is a new cat (just like whenever we bring N home from the vet.) I don't know if it's because Haley made it pretty clear that she was still she (HISS YOURSELF ASSHOLE! -- Oh, ya, that's Haley alright) or if it's because N looks like Willy, and Sherry knows Willy's smell. Or option C., Sherry's just a big dumb jock... which is the most likely reason.
Whenever Sherry hisses at N, Haley doesn't even get threatened (as one would expect), she just looks startled. "Dude... are you kidding me? Even I know Nombly, and I haven't lived with him ten years."
All this to say... taking Willy in would have meant another year of Meowee East negotiations.
Oh la. Anyway... poor Silly Willy. I'm going to miss that damn cat.