Beware the Ides of March indeed.
Today has been a very sucky day. Rainy, but also just bad.
I'd first like to pass my condolences on to Ayden and his family, loosing your little brother too today, damn, that sucks. Big Zen hugs.
Lil Red, inspiration for Lil Red the character, died today on the operating table. She was almost 9. (I am terrible with dates and names so I got a rough estimate based on the photos.) I am basing that on the kitten shots of her at Thanksgiving 2014.
Red was born under the stumps in my backyard. Her mother was a stray, she kept having litters there in the pile of wood. I had animal control come for them twice when I saw how bad they were. The third litter I started feeding mom and trying to socialize her in order to get her and her next litter adopted.
Red was born fire engine red, opposite to her sister Lil White who was a snow white. She got her name from my sister and I when she saw the little minx. I didn't know she'd turn blond a little while later. I used to go out and feed them at night and then read in a chair and pick the kittens up. They'd cuddle with me under my jacket while I read a book until midnight.
After a while they were used to the routine. I went out to feed them one morning and turned around, puzzled that Red wasn't around. When I went back inside she was sitting there cocking her head with the "I'm moving in" expression. She loved to cock her head at me.
She also loved to mess that damn thing up. All the time. I'd go fix it, and within 30 seconds she'd have it bunched up or she'd be a furry burrito in it, purring at me with her tail sticking out one end.
She earned the nickname 'Squirel Girl' because of the way she carried her tail. She was fun, mischievous, perverse, lovable, cuddly, perverse... adorable... lol Did I mention perverse?
She loved to terrorize the boys. She also loved to cuddle with them.
When we decided to take her in I got her spayed and vaccinated. The vets said she popped for FLEV, Feline Leukemia. The virus, not the actual disease. They wanted me to put her down, said she'd only live a max of 2 years. I refused and got her vaccinated anyway. She outlived that prediction by quite a bit. I'm proud of her. (I did mention perverse right?)
There is so much to remember about her. Like how she had the routine down cold. How I'd pick her up and do squats with her during my morning exercise routine. How each time I'd go to poo I had to tip toe and hope she'd be asleep or preoccupied. Otherwise she'd knock wire ties and toys under the door and then stick her paw under and try to get me to play. (Fun when you are bent over trying to poo and reach for something!)
She'd grab Loki's tail and drag it under and get him thrashing. His tail would be dancing and she'd have her paws under the door trying to grab it. And I'd be laughing.
I'm going to miss her having a fit every time I went outside to get the mail or whatever.
I'm going to miss her at the other side of the shower door having a fit because I was getting wet. Clawing at the glass, then pouncing on the towel later. She loved playing with towels and blankets!
Even when she was sick she did it. She'd purr and pounce on my q-tip as I missed the basket, then pounce on the towel as I tried to dry off. I was allowed the other half to dry my legs. Gee, thanks.
It is a shock to loose her. She was so young, so full of life.
She started to go downhill last month. We thought it was a tooth issue but she didn't get over it. February 28th I brought her in, the doctor said there was no problem with her teeth, she was anemic and had a tumor and an IG infection. The anemia and IG infection diagnosis were false. She also beat Leukemia, she was negative.
I got a second opinion, and they recommended another vet.
Last week we brought her in for an ultrasound to a different vet. Friday they confirmed she had a tumor the size of a baseball on her spleen. Nursing her was getting harder and harder, she flat out refused to eat and drank a lot of water. She hid whenever I came to her.
The doctor convinced me to go ahead with the surgery. This morning she was purring her head off. She'd cuddled with dad so much that he didn't have the heart to move her and when he got up to pee he went and slept in his chair afterward.
She was purring and talking to me like she was okay.We had a thing, I'd say hi and she'd meh a hi back to me. It always tickled me when she did that.
Given her age she should be okay or so they said. But she was terribly weak and skin and bones except for the massive gut. She hadn't eaten more than a teaspoon in days and hadn't pooped either. We dropped her off hoping for the best, but fearing the worst. But the Vet called a short time ago and said that the tumor had been attached to her colon, not her spleen. The risks were high. I told him to give her a shot and he tried. But she went unstable. They revived her twice and called me and told me that she was failing, there was nothing more they could do. That was... it.
... it sucks.
Boy do I miss her already. I miss her chasing balls all over the house and driving me batty, scampering about, miss her climbing the cat tower, cuddling with me, kneading (even getting a claw stuck in my nipple more times than I can count!) I am going to miss that.
I am going to miss her climbing into the pantry and trilling at me when she wanted something. And that damn head cock. I'm going to miss it.
I am getting frustrated with people who are already pushing me to get another pet. That started when she first got sick and I'm getting it now when she hasn't been dead 2 hours. She was my friend damn it, not disposable! Not something to toss and get another. She mattered. She mattered to me.
She will be missed by a lot of people, but especially me.
