Apologies up front for a non-game related post. I don't do that here, but today is an exception. Some people say blogging is often good for expressing grief. I guess I'll see.
Online (and off) I'm an admitted curmudgeon, looking at the downside of most things and dismissive of wide-eyed claims of... well just about all wide-eyed claims. And rightfully so, just ask me.
Curmudgeons however often have soft spots. Mine- for my wife, my religion, and my country (if not those in charge of it). And animals. I'm real softie (but not PETA crazy) for animals, especially Maine Coon cats.
A few weeks back I mentioned that the wife was getting me a pair of kittens for my 50th birthday. I want you to meet Winston, the Maine Coon in the picture. Just a bit shy of 3 months in age.
He lived with us for 10 days. In that time he was a perfect paragon of what a Maine Coon should be. Playing in water, following us from room to room, naturally fitting into the house and becoming part of every activity. If I spent any time at the computer for example, he'd find his way up to the monitor where he'd watch with interest or go to sleep until I stepped away. Every. Single. Time.
He cost a pretty penny, but more than paid for himself when he noticed a bit of water leaking from a flooded cabinet. The installers for our new dishwasher had dislodged the drain from the garbage disposal. The resulting flood upon draining the sink wasn't really noticable from outside it. But he caught it instantly saving us hundreds in damages.
Three days before his 3 month birthday, he developed a fever. Two days later his breathing was labored despite treatment. On his birthday, he joined his sister Truman who was suppose to come home with us as well and who had died the previous week from the same illness.
It's called Feline Infectious Peritonitis (FIP). And is currently my personal symbol of evil in the world. Basically it was just bad luck, a lightning strike. Winston's care both before we picked him up and after was excellent. No one is at a fault. The breeder may well have cried as much as we, and has promised a replacement kitten. In time, I'll likely take her up on that. And I have a new charity.
According to Matthew 10:29, God takes account of every fallen sparrow. Certainly he must take note of every little kitten.
Sorry for the downer post. I'll make it up for everyone later. Promise.
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6 comments:
I totally empathize with you.
My natural state is that of the curmudgeon, though the arrival of a daughter four years ago has had a mixed impact on that aspect as I seem to be more hardnosed now about some things while being way less about others.
A couple of weeks ago we had a puppy pass away from bloat, a condition we were not aware of. Yeah, trying to explain what happened to my daughter was an exercise in tear manufacturing...
So, you have my sincere condolences.
I am so sorry to hear that, and so very sorry for your loss. Last summer, we lost our long-time companion Phoebe. She was the most loving cat we ever had, and an absolute blessing. She developed breathing problems and died before we could make it to the vet.
I think, sometimes, my five year-old daughter handled it better than we did. We still miss her a lot.
I am very sorry for your loss, Brian. I own three cats, and I know how much I would miss any of them.
My deepest condolences.
Thanks guys.
Oddly enough I think that idea about blogging and grief does work to some degree. The writing alone helps I think. And a few comments like those you've given adds on top of that.
Mad Brew and Zach, I'm sorry for your losses as well.
Nearly everyone has lost a pet. It's typically the first encounter with death that children have. It was certainly mine.
It's never fun.
Bloat sounds evil too. I remember hearing something about it once, but I didn't know it was that common.
I empathize as well. You put a lot of investment in both money, time, emotion into a young pet like that and just as you start to see the initial rewards it's snatched away by something so arbitrary. It's hard and he looked like a beautiful kitty.
I wouldn't proclaim myself to be a "cat lover" but I do hold some affection for my big Norwegian Lucy, (asshole that he is). And in the future if I was in a position to care for a coon properly, I'd seriously look into it, so I can definitely feel for your loss.
So sorry to hear that Brian. Just this week my cat was getting neutered as well as having a surgery performed to remove a hernia he'd had since we found him (he was a stray kitten about a month old we found abandoned). I was really nervous when he left, and when he came back crying and lashing out from it. I would definitely cry and be sore if I lost him.
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